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little-diable · 4 months ago

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Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out.

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around.

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project.

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him.

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side.

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet.

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado.

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds.

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process.

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway.

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot.

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks.

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again.

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail.

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from.

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man.

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her?

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler.

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day.

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret.

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air.

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now.

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them.

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest.

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that.

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving.

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly.

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to.

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again.

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more.

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.”

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars.

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate.

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again.

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible.

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

#Tyler Owens smut #Tyler Owens x reader #tyler owens Imagine #twisters #glen powell #glen Powell imagine #Glen Powell smut

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 1 month ago

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Reasons Why Zayne and MC is now being labeled as "Husband and Wife"

Note: Just my opinion. Not intend to compare with other LaDS men. Just general observation on how Zayne and MC act with each other which makes them like a Husband and Wife.

It is a canon from the main timeline of the game that they do accompany each other on business trips and M/C willingly and even volunteered herself to go with Zayne.

They are constantly in touch aside from the time MC go to N109 zone. She never tell Zayne about it.

When MC thought she is about to die in N109 Zone, she thinks of Zayne. Zayne was the only other LaDS men that was mentioned in Long-Awaited Revelry.

The Akso Hospital Staff, Captain Jenna, Captain , and Carter all knew about them.

In Wander in Wonder event, they so natural in doing stuff. It naturally come to them to do things as a team. While Zayne carve the Jade Pendant, MC works to provide food and earn them enough money to buy the jade. They don't even have to talk about it. This is why I love Zayne.

He is never a hard ass guy with "I will do everything" mentality. In his eyes, they are always a team. Even though I feel that he have much say to their relationship, he let MC do what she can for them. He doesn't take MC's individuality and right to do what she wants and he guides her instead.

In there messages/phone call/memory post, MC is almost always the one to look out for Zayne. She knows that they are both busy and she always do what she can to take care of her and he do the exact the same. I was squealing to that one where they nap together, Zayne is overflowing love for MC.

In Moonlit Dream, he initiated the intimate moment with Zayne. Some might say that MC also initiate the intimate moment with Rafayel. But hear me out. With Rafayel "they are trying to convince the maids" outside the room about their relationship. I'm not saying that what they have is unreal, but with Zayne, she initiate and willingly give herself to him. Same goes in Hidden Motive when MC willingly sits on Zayne's lap.

In Doomsday memory with Zayne, they are so deep in relationship that they are already doing groceries together. And I am kicking myself because Zayne suggested that kissing will be their everyday thing.. OMFGosh!!! This man gone from cold to hot! His character development is so subtle that even I was shock but thrilled with our progress with him.

Magnificent!

And lastly, while Zayne is not fond of MC talking with his male colleague to much, he still let her socialize with them. He isn't the type to be impolite with everyone that talk MC. He even let her plan a not so surprise party for him with his colleague. This is such a huge progress for Zayne since he prefer to be left alone.

Won't you love a guy that was ready to compromise with everything with you just to keep you happy?

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #zayne lads #zayne l&ds #dr zayne #zayne x mc #lads zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne x reader

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vxnuslogy · 1 month ago

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— empty souls do not breathe, they wait.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: ajaw has always thought that after kinich's death, all will eventually bow to him as their new king. what he didn't expect was to grapple with his host's loneliness and find the reason why he sought your presence during nights that grow too cold.

— warnings: slight angst if you squint

— author's note: ajaw holds a very special place in my heart so deserves to be the main character of this fic. and after almost 24 hours of having no electricity, it'll finally leave the basement. this is heavily inspired by this comic on twt so please go give it a read! art credits to @.n249 on twt. | 2.5k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @moineauz @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!

there was something wrong with kinich. mavuika’s eyes scanned over the wounds on the poor boy’s body and the blood dripping from his forehead. long gone was his usual bandana and golden rimmed eyes were now tainted with a strange red.

this man is not kinich.

“so kinich has fallen, too,” her voice sullen, eyes barely able to look at the husk of one of her heroes. though her stance is not tense, it certainly wasn’t relaxed either. “kinich” followed her movements carefully—the way her hands twitched towards her claymore, her eyes he could not read, and the unmistakable tone of her voice. the pyro archon was disappointed.

“i, too, would be disappointed if you didn’t notice, archon.” kinich dipped his head low and let out a bone chilling laugh that scratched his throat the wrong way. blood stained glove came to push his hair back as mavuika stares at the eyes that did not belong to the dendro user of the scions of canopy.

“it was a shame for that brat to die, but oh well,” a twisted grin tugged at his lips as mavuika’s face remained passive. “it is i! the almighty dragon lord, k’uhul ajaw!”

he takes a deep breath before letting his host’s arms fall to his side. “per our agreement, i will stand in and make kinich the greatest hero for all of natlan to see!”

“and would you be satisfied with that?”

ajaw’s gaze hardened as his lips tugged into a deep frown. the pyro archon’s eyes now held a fervor brighter than any hope this entity of chaos has ever seen. was she still hoping that kinich would miraculously survive?

“are you implying that not even celestia is celebrating my return? their gift is now mi–”

“the gift you claim for yourself does not respond to you,” ajaw flinches back, eyes zeroing into the vision of his person as his fists shook in rage. “dreams will die if their master has fallen. there’s more to the contract between the two of you than you think.”

ajaw sees red. teeth snarling into a disgusting scowl as he readied kinich’s weapon—ignoring the way this too did not answer his call for blood. “are you mocking me, archon?”

much to the dragon’s surprise, the woman laughs. she laughs. at him? he’ll never know because he’s already zipping away from the scene.

“this is merely a trial, a simple waiting game.”

“why the hell am i using that servant’s party tricks!” ajaw screams as he lands in the far distance. he’s been using kinich’s grapple hook to come to and fro natlan these days as his mind flies back to this boy’s archon and her infuriating claims. “bwah! forget it, i have other things to deal with like–”

“kinich?”

like you.

the person from kinich’s life that he’s persistently pined over for years on end—ajaw even thinks kinich does it unintentionally, the boy was missing a few screws in the emotional department after all.

ajaw doesn’t answer back. he just blankly stares how your face is drained of its color. the way your fist grips at your chest like you're about to rip your heart out and the shaky–afraid–smile you flash him as you come to sit beside him.

you kept your distance—normally you’d sit so close your fingers would slightly entangle with kinich’s. ajaw observes you from the corner of his eyes before looking at natlan in the distance. back in his pixelated prison form, he could barely see natlan as a whole, just bits and pieces as he focused his energy to disturb and plan kinich’s untimely death.

“what are you doing here?”

how strange, ajaw didn’t mean to voice that question out in the open. especially with the way you look at him as if your world had crumbled to dust, leaving no trace of your home to pick up. something tugs at ajaw after your blank answer. the great almighty dragon lords do not feel, they wreak havoc, instill control, so why? why was this heart beating in such a melancholic rhythm?

“let’s go,” he says as he slowly comes to a stand, trying to mimic kinich’s attitude and actions towards you to the best of his abilities. you look at him, tears threatening to spill, yet you still smile and take his outstretched arm. ajaw doesn’t voice how you immediately drop his hand when you stand—you always hold kinich like your final lifeline, so why are you letting go?

ajaw understands, he simply won’t accept this fact.

you loved kinich, not ajaw.

you wanted kinich, but you still treated ajaw with the same treatment.

you treat his wounds with care, apologizing whenever he winces and flinches, pressing soft kisses to the calluses of his hands and his forehead. you let him listen to your beating heart that drummed the same melancholic melody and wipe away at the tears he never acknowledges whenever the figure of kinich’s dismantled body haunts him at night.

you acted as if you loved him and ajaw can’t live with this anymore.

so he runs away—punishes himself into confinement until you won’t be able to follow him. and then he thinks. sitting silently on a patch of grass as the sun slowly fades into another dreadful night. now that he’s left alone to grapple with all the uncontained emotions kinich himself couldn’t answer, ajaw finds himself at a loss.

“hey kinich,” he whispers to the wind, a bare hand filled with scars and scratches—free from the gloves that didn’t fit him—tug at the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. “have you always been this lonely?”

ajaw hugs his knees, hand grabbing at his hair harshly–this body did not belong to him, he does not deserve your kindness or love. he won’t admit it, but now under the scrutiny or judgment of no one, ajaw comes to finally admit of his stretched jealousy for you and kinich. how come this insolent servant of him had someone who deeply cared about him despite his attitude? someone who was born to accompany him through thick and thin, to infuriate and fret over but still share whatever he or you could share with one another. neither of you left each other, and ajaw wanted that.

will ajaw have to live his life like this? chasing after the shadows of your relationship with kinich until his legs finally gave out?

“ugh! i hate you kinich!” he screams into the wind as they howl back.

“don’t say that, ajaw,” his world stills and the already chilly breeze turned colder. there you were, under the light of a fading sun with a small smile on your lips. “you’ll hurt kinch’s feelings.”

he scoffs. grip tightening as he buries his head on his arms. “then he can stay dead if he can’t handle some words from me! my servant,” his voice quivers slightly. his breathing shakes and turns shallow as you step towards him. “don’t come near me!”

you take one step, then two, then you’re sprinting to ajaw before he could run away for a second time. you cradle his head to your chest as you let his iron grip bruise your arms and silent tears be soaked in your heart.

“my kinich would not be offended by me!”

“i know he won’t,” you say in a whisper, hand rubbing circles to his back and ajaw finally comes to understand why kinich always sought you out each night when his past comes to haunt him. you kept his fears at bay with your overwhelming love for him. ajaw wonders if there’s also some love from you reserved for him.

the following nights, ajaw spends his time in your arms as you tell him stories from your childhood. how kinich had saved you from a safety malfunction when you went bungee jumping, the kinds of flowers you press into your journal, and the many photos from your family in different nations.

“do you not miss them, human?” ajaw asks, another photo from your mother as she stands in front of a quaint flower shop in fontaine. you only smile and tuck away another album under your bed. the sight of ajaw curiously sifting through your photos—from family, friends, and kinich—makes something swell in your chest. it bloats and bloats until you’re sure it can hold all of natlan with ease.

“i do,” you reply, sitting by the edge of your bed and looking at the dates written behind each photo. “but at least they send me things so i know they’re doing well.”

ajaw frowns in contemplation. “will they come home?”

will kinich come home?

you don’t voice out the question that’s floating in ajaw’s mind and just smile. watching the flame from the small lamp on your bedside table flicker, your reflection staring right back at you as you meet ajaw’s gaze.

“they will, we just wait.”

ajaw frowns. “waiting means to waste your efforts to hope for a miracle.”

despite his harshness and pessimism, you chuckle. gathering all the stray photos, you put them back neatly in the album. as you make your way to the window to close the window, you turn back to ajaw. “an empty soul does not breathe, it waits. you’re waiting, too, ajaw.”

“i am not waiting for that vermin!” he protests with a huff. you laugh as he falls back on your bed, both hands behind his head as he stares at your bedroom ceilings. a contemplative expression falls on his face as the furrow of his brows from embarrassment finally eases. “is he even still alive?”

you hum as you lay beside him. your eyes gaze at the still blazing vision on his pants and close your eyes. “a person’s vision is their ambition. they die out when it's been fulfilled or when its master passes,” ajaw looks at you with storm clouds in his eyes but you shift in your position and gently close them with your hands. “so long as kinich dreams, he’ll still live. he’s not the type to leave business unfinished.”

tonight ajaw dreams—he hopes that your belief turns out to be true. in the blanket of night he’s grown to be afraid of, he sees you and kinich. but strangely enough, he sees himself in between you two—not as an obstacle, but as a part of your happiness. ajaw finds himself really liking this dream.

the night kingdom, like its name suggests, is a perpetually cold and dark landscape with only the wayob in front of him casting a faint light. small engravings of his ancient name glows in a light purple as he gazes at his hazy body. surprisingly enough, his bandana still stayed securely on his head.

“seems like i’m still under the wayob’s protection,” he says to no one in particular as echoes about a flame burning bright eases his worries. “if i’m still here then surely we must have won.”

kinich was about to turn and walk away—to where? he’s not quite sure. as he takes a step after another, the wayob—the original bearer of his ancient name—speaks to him in a voice he can only describe as all knowing; omniscient like his archon.

“you seem troubled, “malipo” kinich,” it said and this makes kinich stop in his tracks. “do you not trust your little companion to bring you victory?”

kinich doesn’t answer immediately. he takes his time to weigh out the answers he could reply with. “trust is a strong word. we’re only bound by a contract after all. i’m simply weighing the chances of my gamble.”

the wayob chuckles, deep and fatherly. kinich felt his shoulders start to relax a little more as the wayob continued to speak to him. “bearers of the “malipo” name are often accompanied by saurian companions through thick and thin. some, if not all, of them had an unbreakable bond between them.”

“so i’ve heard,” kinich says, arms crossing over his chest as he questions, “but a lot of people have questioned your judgment because of it.”

kinich hears a chuckle again as he hears something akin to glass breaking in the distance.

“i’m well aware, “malipo” kinich. which is why i’m glad,” when kinich looks up to the dark sky, hundreds of shattered fragments rain down on him but he doesn’t shield himself. he feels his heart beat a little faster when he catches sight of his body—lacking his bandana and gloves—land a few feet away from him.

“my judgment was proven right, once again.”

“wait–” but the wayob had lost its glow. kinich doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it further as his own body possessed by a small dragon is grabbing him by the shoulders and screaming at his face.

“consider yourself lucky that i see some value in you “malipo” kinich!” the dragon shouts as he raises his hand, the same hand he always uses to summon ajaw’s power before being blinded by a green glow. “consider this an investment! so you better bring in some profit or i’m taking your beloved as hostage!”

a persistent series of knocks on your front door rudely awakens you from your slumber. grumpily leaving your bed, you try to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you prepare yourself to berate whoever is at your door at this ungodly hour.

“what is it—”

“you win this time, human!” a small dragon screams at you. you blink a few times as you hold out both your hands for ajaw to land on as he huffs and obliges. “i’ve fulfilled my end of the deal, so you better keep yours!”

“please don’t tell me you actually made a deal with him…” when you look up, you feel tears threaten to spill from your eyes again. kinich stands there, a sheepish hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at you in distress. you let ajaw go and let your hands drift to kinich’s face, dragging them under his eyes and tracing over his lips as a ghost of a smile starts to form.

you chuckle in disbelief. “yeah, maybe i have.”

“i hope you know the consequences of your decision,” you sneak a peek at ajaw who has his little pixel arms crossed over his chest. you turn back to kinich, a smile on your lips as you tug him inside your not so empty home. “you’ll just have to wait and see.”

ajaw quietly watches as you make kinich some food, a homely ambience blankets the house as you and kinich catch up. he’ll never openly admit it, but he’s glad you agreed to his deal. he feels kinich’s eyes follow him like a hawk as he sits himself down on your shoulder. you offer him a spoon of food but he only huffs in decline.

you’re waiting has paid off, though ajaw will never verbally admit. the other half of both your souls has come home and your statement was proven right: ajaw’s soul—as well as yours—will always wait for kinich to come home.

and kinich smiles, because like ajaw, he’ll never verbally admit how he’s been waiting for him to save him from the night kingdom all this time.

#—stellaronhvnters.#kinich x reader #kinich x you #kinich fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact kinich #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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hemmingsleclerc · 9 months ago

Text

Reaction┃Charles Leclerc

summary: Charles finds out about Emma's interview on DTS

pt 2!!

The racing season had come to an end and Charles was enjoying some well-deserved time off at home with his wife and young daughter.

One lazy afternoon, they decided to catch up on a recently released movie. They settled into the double bed that he shared with his wife, turned on the TV and were ready to spend an afternoon of relaxation.

As the movie started, Charles scrolled through his phone and casually checked social media. Suddenly, the familiar sound of his phone ringing interrupted the quiet afternoon. Confused, he picked it up and saw numerous notifications flooding in. Curiosity piqued, he opened Twitter and found himself tagged in a video from the latest episode of "Drive to Survive."

He clicked on the video and his confusion grew as the scene unfolded. The camera focused on a familiar face, but it wasn't Charles. It was his daughter, Emma Jules, standing in front of the camera with a small microphone and a huge smile.

Charles leaned forward and his eyes widened in surprise. The interviewer began to ask Emma about her father and what he was like outside the track. Innocent but revealing answers came out of Emma's mouth.

"My daddy is the best here," she began saying, her eyes shining with sincerity.''Sometimes he sings very loud in the car or in the shower. But you know what? He's not very good at it!"

''"He likes to dance while he's cooking with mommy, and he snores really loud when he's asleep. It's funny!"

Charles watched in horror as Emma talked about his private quirks and habits.

''He also cries a lot at Disney or animal movies, or is more interested in playing with my toys than I am. ''

Charles exchanged a bewildered glance with Y/N, who grinned, clearly finding the situation amusing. Emma continued, unaware of her father's growing embarrassment.

''Please tell me I'm dreaming, that Emma didn't actually just say that'' Charles said.

''Sometimes we tell mommy that we are going to grand-mére's house but in reality he takes me to buy new dolls or ice cream.''

''!Wait, what did she just say?'' Y/N asked with a frown.

''Nothing mon-amour, you know how children are, they invent everything'' Charles laughed nervously, trying to avoid his wife's accusatory gaze.

''So that's what they did on the weekends, huh?''

''I have no idea what she's talking about, I swear''

''He also likes to help me make friendship bracelets for my friend and also lets me do his hair and makeup with my princess makeup set that santa gave me for Christmas, he always says that he looks very cute.''

''Jesus Christ, this is not happening, I'm gonna die''

By this point, Y/N couldn't contain her laughter and Charles's face turned several shades of red as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. He didn't expect his daughter to become the star of "Drive to Survive" in such an unexpected way.

The camera then panned slightly, revealing Charles in the background, completely unaware that he was being featured in his daughter's candid interview.

"Looks like you've been exposed, my love."

''!Emma Jules Leclerc, come here right now! You're grounded for life!''

@barcelonaloverf1life

@llando4norris

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moraxine · 6 days ago

Text

Fragments of Us [Ekko]

pairing: ekko x reader

words: 2k

summary: ekko wakes up in an alternate universe where you’re alive and everything feels right—but it’s not his world. torn between love and duty, he must leave to save his reality.

ARCANE SPOILERS!

“Powder. Ugh, she’s so annoying sometimes. I told her that the graffiti on Sevika’s stupid bar wasn’t even that good—like, come on, who even uses pink for a skull?—and she just flipped out ! Called me a ‘wannabe artist.’ Like, okay?”

Ekko’s chest burns as he violently jolts awake, aware , coughing as if he’s been drowning moments before. His head is pounding, all memories flooding his mind and spinning round and round. It takes a few moments for his vision to stabilise and start clearing up.

What the hell happened?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, familiar yet a voice he never thought his ears would detect ever again, he freezes. His eyes snap open, adjusting to the dim glow of the neon streetlamp. After a while of simply blinking, right hand on his forehead, he dares to turn your way, only to face you in utter shock.

There you are, right beside him, nervously fiddling with a small gadget in your hand while waiting for his answer.

Ekko’s breath gets caught in his throat.

His gaze desperately darts around, taking in the distorted version of Zaun. The buildings look eerily familiar but cleaner, more polished. And then there is you —alive, bright-eyed, rambling as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

“You’re staring at me like I’ve got two heads or something. All good in there?” You ask, leaning closer as you gently tap his head.

No, no, no.

This must be some kind of twisted joke, a dream soon to turn into a nightmare, like the ones he experienced after your passing.

A strong wave of dizziness takes over and he loses balance. You’re not fast enough to catch him and he collapses on the floor, tears gleaming in his eyes.

“Shit, Ekko, I told you I’m fine walking home by myself! You need to focus on fixing that sleep schedule of yours. You work too much….”

You kneel down to check on him but as soon as you reach for his arm, he manages to pull himself up, wincing as his muscles protest. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “Just… where am I?”

Your brow furrows. “Zaun, duh. Did you hit your head?”

Zaun. But not his Zaun. This is different. Cleaner. Sharper. Brighter. Wrong.

You wave a hand in front of his face when he’s up on his feet again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Seriously, you’re acting super weird.”

He shakes his head, trying to gather himself. “I’m… just tired.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you say, leaning back on your heels. “Well, you can sleep at my place if you want. It’s a bit of a mess, but it’s better than the middle of the street.”

“Why…Why are you helping me?”

I didn’t protect you. I let you die-

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You have to be kidding me, really.”

He stares at you, his chest tightening. You are so casual, so warm, so alive. This isn’t his world—it is someone else’s. Someone’s whom was able to keep you safe and happy.

You wave a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo? You good, or do I need to drag you there myself?”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his trance. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Finally,” you say grabbing his arm. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend, y’know.”

As you lead him down the street, continuing your pointless rambling about Powder and some argument over graffiti, Ekko follows silently, his mind racing. He doesn’t belong here, but for the first time in years, being near you feels like he is home.

ii.

Ekko is standing in the corner of your cluttered workshop, his fingers trembling slightly as he tightens the final screws on a device he barely understands anymore. Weeks have been spent scavenging parts, tearing apart old tech, and sketching blueprints on scraps of paper. The machine is almost ready—his way out of this world is almost ready.

You, of course, don’t know. In fact, you seem to know nothing about Ekko lately. Ever since that incident outside the bar, he’s been acting strange in a way you can’t pinpoint.

“Hey, genius,” you call from across the room, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’re perched on a high stool, playing with a broken clock. “You’ve been staring at that thing for hours. What is it, anyway?”

He stiffens at your question, keeping his face carefully neutral. “Just… something to help me get around. It’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Since when do you get all secretive about your projects? You used to brag about your tech every chance you got.”

“Since now,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.

It’s been this way for quite some time now—Ekko growing quieter, more distant, all while you try to bridge the gap with your usual chatter. You’ve noticed the way he avoids your eyes, the way he flinches whenever you stand too close. It’s not like him.

And it hurts.

“You’re acting weird, Ekko,” you admit, setting the clock down and leaning back on your hands. “Like, even weirder than usual. Did I do something?”

“No,” he says quickly, but his voice sounds strained, and the single word only makes you more assured that there is indeed something going on.

“Then what?” you press, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Is this about Powder? Because if so, she’s the one being difficult, not me.”

Ekko clenches his jaw, his hands tightening around the tool in his grip. He can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand—not fully. How could he possibly explain that you’re not even supposed to be here? That this version of you isn’t his you? That in his world, you’re just a memory he carries like a scar?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, his voice low. “Just… drop it, okay?”

You flinch at the coldness in his tone, but you force a laugh, trying to mask the sting. “Fine. Be mysterious, then. See if I care.”

Turning away, you pretend to focus on the clock again, but your heart isn’t in it. You want to push him, demand answers, but something in his expression stops you. There’s a pain in his eyes that you can’t quite place, and for the first time, you wonder if this is bigger than any conflict he might have had with people in the past.

Ekko exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging. He hates doing this—pushing you away. But if he lets you in, it’ll only make leaving harder.

Because he is leaving. As much as he wants to stay, to pretend this is his life, he knows it isn’t real. He doesn’t belong here. And the longer he stays, the harder it’ll be to say goodbye. Especially to you.

“Hey,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence. “For what it’s worth, you’re still my favorite nerd. Even if you’re being a jerk.”

He looks up at you, startled by the softness in your voice. For a moment, he wants to tell you everything—to explain why he can’t let himself get too close. To tell you he loves you. But that would be partially true as you’re not his. Instead, he just nods. “Thank you.”

You offer him a small yet warm smile and his resolve falters for a moment. But then his gaze falls on the machine again—his way out—and he reminds himself why he has to do this.

It’s almost done. Just a little longer.

iii.

Ekko stands in the middle of the workshop, his hand resting on the activation lever of the machine. The room hums faintly with power, the cobbled-together contraption sparking faintly as it waits for his final command. It’s ready. After days of work, this is it—it’s time to go back to the people who need him.

But his chest feels tight, and it’s not just from the lingering ache of exhaustion. It’s because of you.

The door creaks open, and his heart sinks. You’re standing there, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and anger. “What the hell is this?” you ask, stepping inside. “Ekko, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. “It’s… nothing.”

“Nothing?” you snap, gesturing at the machine. “You’ve been shutting me out for God knows how long, and now I find you messing with… whatever this is you’ve made? Don’t lie to me, Ekko.”

He finally meets your eyes, and the raw emotion there almost makes him crumble. But he takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I can’t explain it.”

You take a step closer, your frustration giving way to hurt. “Why? Why can’t you just tell me? I’m not mad—I just… I don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this.”

Ekko clenches his fists, his mind racing. He could tell you the truth—about the alternate universe, about the fact that you don’t even exist anymore in his world. But what good would it do?

“It’s better this way,” he replies quietly.

Your hands drop to your sides, and the look in your eyes nearly breaks him. “Better for who? For me? Or for you?”

“Y/n…” His voice cracks, but he quickly swallows it down. “I don’t belong here. I need to leave. That’s all I can say.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “You’re lying. You’ve been here all this fucking time, and now you’re just… leaving? Without a word?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do!” you shout, stepping closer until you’re right in front of him. “Whatever this is, whoever you think you are—you’re my… friend, Ekko. You don’t just get to disappear without telling me why.”

His hands tremble as he reaches up to touch your shoulder, his gaze locked on yours. “You are—” His voice breaks, and he has to force himself to keep going. “You’re amazing. You’re… everything good about this place. You’re the reason I’m still alive. But I can’t stay.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding. His words feel final, and the weight of them crushes you completely. You fail to understand. Nothing makes sense, absolutely nothing. “Why?” you whisper, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Why can’t you stay? Is it something I did?”

“No!” he says, more forcefully than he means to. He takes your hands, holding them tightly. “It’s not you. It’s… me. It’s my world. I need to go back to where I came from.”

You can’t comprehend what he’s saying, but the desperation in his voice silences your questions. You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Fine,” you say, even though it’s anything but fine. “If you have to go… go.”

His hands linger on yours for a moment longer before he lets go. “I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me,” he says softly. “But I can’t. Not here.”

Tears spill over as you watch him turn back to the machine. “Will I ever see you again?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He hesitates, his hand hovering over the lever. “I don’t know.”

That’s all he can give you.

With one last look at you, his expression filled with regret and longing, he pulls the lever. The machine sparks to life, and the air around him ripples with energy. You take a step back, shielding your eyes as the light grows blinding.

When the light fades, he’s there, his tired body slumped down on the ground. You immediately run to his side, kneeling down and pulling him to your lap. The room falls silent, the only sound the faint hum of the now blown up machine. You gently caress his cheek, tears running down your hot cheeks.

After a while, he wakes up.

And it doesn’t take you very long to realise.

You glance at the remains one last time.

And you hope that wherever he is, he’s doing what he set out to do—saving his people, his world, even if it meant leaving this one behind.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane ekko #ekko x reader #ekko x you #ekko angst #ekko fanfiction #ekko x reader angst #ekko #ekko league of legends #ekko arcane #league of legends

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loving-barnes · 3 months ago

Text

LOGAN HOWLETT - FIX YOU

A/N: Guys, it's happening! It's here! Old man Logan story for you! I don't know if you'll like it. This is what I always imagined after seeing "Logan" movie. I am a sucker for happy endings, I guess. Let me know what you think. I tried my best.

Pairing: Old man Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff, nudity, extremely light smut

Words: 6800+

Important notes: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine | Inaccurate information from the movie. I just wanted to write my own thing, so just be aware of that.

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - FIX YOU (OLD MAN LOGAN)

Shitty year. Shitty life. The only thing that eased the pain and his thoughts was the booze. He was able to get drunk. Fucking finally. No one stopped him from the liquid poison. Why would they? No one was alive. Everyone was dead, under the daisies. Sniffing them with their skeletons. All thanks to Charles. Now, that old senile fuck wouldn’t die no matter what. Fucking telepath.

Logan threw another empty bottle on the dusty ground, snarling as he limped back to the driver’s seat of the limo. His phone had been ringing for some time now. It meant another job for him. He took a minute to collect himself to look at the notification. He hoped to call it a day. That dream died sooner than his appetite for alcohol.

One passenger, long ass drive around El Paso. Fucking rich people that don’t know what to do with their money, he thought. Last night, he drove a bunch of drunk chicks from a bachelorette party, showing him their tits. At least some fun, nice round things to look at. Tonight, it wouldn’t be as entertaining.

Touching the screen, he accepted the offer and put the phone into a holder. His eyes found another empty bottle on the passenger’s seat. Logan threw it out the window. He drove off the side road and headed to pick up the next customer. He hoped it would be someone calm. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with drunks and skanks.

God he wished the day would end soon - well, night. He was tired, hungry and was already in need of booze to ease his mind and pain. This life sucked. Ever since Charles managed to kill everyone over a year ago, living in this world has been a nightmare. Instinctively, he patted the spot on his jacket where he carried an adamantium bullet. Logan kept it with him, to end his life once he felt like it wasn’t worth living anymore.

When he came to the pick-up spot, he frowned. There was one person, as expected. He pictured a guy standing there, like the one he drove to a hotel a week ago. This was a woman. She was dressed in all black, with a big black hat and massive sunglasses. Snobby girl using daddy’s money, he thought. Besides, who the fuck wears sunglasses in the evening?

Logan was ready to leave the limo and open the door for her. However, the woman was faster. She got inside on her own. At least she was capable of doing that.

He drove away, heading to… wait, where were they headed? He grabbed his phone to look at the final destination. There was none. He noticed a note: Please drive around the city. Fuck, he wasn’t going to do that. He wanted to go back home.

Logan rolled down the partition, mouth open to ask the question. But he was met with the woman sitting right behind him as if she was waiting for him to address her. Something inside told him to be careful. Goose bumps ran through his devastated body.

“Where to, miss?” was all he asked.

Her head turned to the side. Logan noticed the shape of her lips covered in crimson-red lipstick. To him, they reminded him of someone. His mind went instantly back to the days when everyone was alive. There was one person he missed the most. She used to wear a colour like that on her lips. God, he hated thinking about her. It was too painful.

“Just keep driving,” the woman replied.

That voice. Holy fuck, how sweet and familiar it was. The booze was playing tricks on him, he was sure of it. No, she was dead. Everyone was dead. Charles killed almost all X-men with his seizure-inducted psychic attack.

He took a deep breath to calm down. When a familiar scent hit his nostrils, he squinted at the woman. What the fuck was this? This was just some mind game of his brain. “That’s not how things work, miss.”

She chuckled and took off her sunglasses. When her eyes met his, Logan jumped on the brakes and the limo halted abruptly. One hand rested on the steering wheel while the rest of his body turned around to look better into her face. What the fuck was happening?

“Hey, Logan,” the woman said his name. It sounded like the most beautiful melody that hit his ears.

“Y/N?” he whispered her name.

The cars behind them started to honk aggressively. The limo was in their way, slowing the traffic down. It wasn’t wise to stand in the middle of the street. Logan cursed and started to drive again, his eyes watching Y/N through the rear-view mirror like a hawk. He feared that one blink later she’d be gone.

He drove them to a silent street, where he knew they’d be alone, without anyone snooping around. The shock was replaced by anger and betrayal. How the fuck was she alive after everything that happened?

Logan parked the car, his body turned back to face her. She should be glad there was the fucking partition separating them. His emotions were running wild. He’d be able to grab her by the neck and choke the truth out of her. “Fucking sing, right now woman. How the fuck are you alive?”

“You sure this is safe?” she pointed at the outside.

“Fuck, talk!” he raised his voice at her. “You’re supposed to be dead. How the fuck are you alive? Explain yourself before I do something I’ll regret for the rest of my miserable life.” Logan was fuming. It was like a wicked mind game.

“I don’t know.”

He laughed. What a pathetic reply. “I should believe that?”

Huffing, she moved to the door and stepped out of the limo. Logan got out a second later, limping towards her as fast as he could. With a painful grunt, he took the claws out of his right hand and grabbed her by the top of her long jacket. He pressed her against the vehicle.

Y/N’s eyes locked with his. There wasn’t a hint of fear inside her. She remained calm. She expected this reaction, the distrust. Anyone would react this way.

Her breathing was slow, even. “I can explain everything.”

“You have one fucking minute,” he snarled.

“I’m gonna need more than that,” she said.

He cursed under his nose. Logan let her go and stepped back to breathe. He was spiralling. Was this happening? This was a hallucination, he was sure of it. None of it was real. “Fuck, fuck! I mourned you. You’re supposed to be fucking dead like the rest of them!” He coughed.

It was painful to see him like this. One year could do a lot of damage - physical and mental. The man she once knew was broken and bruised. Carefully, her hand lifted to his face. She pressed the palm on his grey-brown beard-covered cheek. “Logan,” she said his name. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened.”

“Shut up.”

“So many lost, dead because of what Charles’s power did,” she continued. “I’m really sorry about this.”

As she was about to retract her hand, he grabbed her with his left one and pressed his lips on top of it. He inhaled her scent, felt the soft skin with his lips. Logan needed to be sure she was real and not just a figment of his imagination. “How?” he grunted. “How is this possible? I mourned you, Y/N,” he repeated.

She nodded, understanding. “There is a lot to discuss,” she said. “We need to go somewhere where we can talk. That’s why I wanted you to drive around. Standing here, where anyone can see us is dangerous.”

Logan let her go. He huffed and wiped his face with a hand. The claws on the right hand were long gone. “Get in the car,” he ordered. “I know a place.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. Y/N sat on the passenger’s seat and Logan drove them away. Both of them made sure there weren’t any suspicious vehicles following them. El Paso was a big city, lightened up with many lights like Vegas. The city woke up for the night as the temperatures got acceptable to humans.

“Is anyone else alive?” Logan asked after a while. His voice got softer. He was able to process the initial shock.

“No,” she shook her head. “Everyone’s dead. I should have been dead too.”

“How come you are not?”

She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. “I think my mutation saved me. It got enhanced with Charles’s psychic attack, or what the hell that was. My mutation was always a protective one. I believe it helped me survive and regenerate. As if that whole situation unlocked something new inside me.”

“Shit,” he gasped. “Is that even possible?”

She shrugged. “I recall something that Charles taught back at the school. High-stress situations can unlock mutant powers. Usually, it happens to teens and children. But, it’s not rare for mutant adults to have their mutation enhanced by stress, which can potentially bring out more powers.”

Y/N reached into her boot and took out a pocket knife. As Logan stopped the limo at the red light, she showed him her forearm. “Look.” With one precise move, she cut her skin. Some blood dripped down her arm and onto her clothes. Next, it was sealed with a white light. The skin was nice and clean as if she never cut herself.

Shit, she could regenerate now. It made sense she survived. “Damn. That didn’t happen before,” Logan commented. He thought back to the days when they were at the mutant school. She could get hurt like anyone else. Bleed like any mortal. “Just… tell me why did you decide to show up now? Why not when you woke up after that incident?”

Logan drove them to the parking lot inside a building. It was big enough for the limo to fit through the driveway. Once he parked on the second level, he turned the gas off.

“I didn’t know where you were or who was left alive,” she said.

“A year, Y/N,” he glared at her. Logan’s eyes were red. He had bags under them, signalling the lack of sleep, the tiredness. “What the hell were you doing during that time?”

The silence inside the car got heavy. This was a question she knew he’d ask. It was time to tell him everything that happened.

Y/N turned her body to face him. Her eyes found his shaky hands. “I remember… the pain. A lot of it. My head was about to explode. There was a ringing sound in my ears. The ground was shaking. I could see our friends, the students, on the ground, yelling and gasping for air.

Then it was followed by darkness. When I woke up, I was in a morgue. There were so many of us, lying on cold tables. I was the only one alive. They were all dead.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “I went through all the tables, saw all the dead faces of our friends and family.”

Her voice broke. It was too painful to talk about what she went through when she woke up. How fast the world changed. Her hands trembled. “I went through all bodies,” she sobbed. “I saw all the lifeless faces. I cried my eyes out and mourned them. In the end, I realised two people were missing - you and Charles.”

Logan’s expression softened. He was consumed by his anger and confusion. She came back to his life when he thought she was dead. He should consider it a blessing. A light came back into his dark life. Now, he learnt that her second chance at life was a complete disaster. Pain and death.

“It took me some time to start again, trust the people around me. Afterwards, I started to look for you. I knew, deep inside, that you were alive somewhere. I made a plan, created a safe place for us once I’d find you. It took me half a year to get an intel that you were alive, here in El Paso.”

Logan’s hand reached her face and wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks. After all this time, he still had a soft spot for her. He always did.

“It wasn’t easy to get here,” she continued. “Luckily, I had people from the past who owed me a couple of favours. I collected information about you. It was easy to discover you got Charles with you. I got intel about his state or how you’ve been trying to get meds for him. When possible, I’d arrange for extra medication for him.”

Logan sighed. “That was you?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t always possible. I tried my best to help you while I prepared for the whole plan I made.”

He huffed. “Shit, I appreciate it, darlin’.”

Y/N smiled at him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I’m sorry I couldn’t…”

“That’s okay-”

She grabbed his hand. Her fingers trailed the scars on it. They hid under the sleeves of his black jacket. “Do you… Do you know what’s happening to you?” she had to ask. “I can see you’ve changed, Logan.”

“I’m an old man now,” he said. “I’m in constant pain, healing slowly but not fully. It’s clear I finally have my expiration date. I’ve been alive for almost 200 years. I’ve been through a lot of shit, good and bad.”

“So,” she cleared her throat. “You feel like it’s your time to go?”

“I didn’t have a reason to live,” Logan admitted. He couldn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on the front window, watching the outside. “The X-men dead, no school, no mutants. I ended up taking care of Charles, who doesn’t want to die,” he grunted, frustrated. He smashed his hands against the steering wheel.

Logan left the car abruptly. He needed to breathe, to move around and calm down. Charles once gave him a second chance at life. He welcomed him into the mutant school. Now, Logan wanted him to finally die. It was too much responsibility. And he was exhausted.

Y/N appeared before him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Logan,” she whispered his name. Her mouth opened to say some reassuring words when he pressed her against the limo. His big hands grabbed her by her face and pressed his lips to hers.

It’s been a year since he last kissed her. She used to be his anchor, the love of his life. It got destroyed when everyone died - when he thought she died. And now, being here with her a year later, the need was back. Their lips moved in sync in a hungry kiss filled with sorrow. His tongue demanded entrance for further exploration.

Y/N grabbed him by the white button-up. She missed his kisses, his touch. However, it felt different. The time apart made it feel a bit foreign and sad. Her heart wanted to explode.

Logan pushed away, breathing heavily. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N quickly found his shoulders. “It’s been a fucked up year.”

He pulled her into his arms, hiding her in a tight embrace. “With you here, back in my life, it changes everything,” he admitted.

There was a short silence before Y/N told him something he didn’t know. “I know what’s happening to you, Logan.”

They looked at each other. His brow lifted. “What?” His arms remained on her waist.

“It’s the adamantium,” she said. “It’s poisoning you, slowing down your healing factor and killing you.”

“How do you know?”

She told him the story of how her trusted friend from the past was able to get to Logan’s blood sample from the time when he agreed to get the adamantium. They ran some tests and even got their hands on some of his bloody clothes from a few months back when he got shot by some men in a parking lot.

“With his help, we were able to do a full analysis and figure out that the adamantium would attack your cells more with time. It’s a toxic substance released from the metal that is killing you from the inside. It’s a whole complex situation. But,” she sighed, “he was able to figure it all out.”

He huffed. “Well, there you go, darlin’. My time is running out. Fast.”

“What if…” she whispered. “What if there was a way to heal you? Would you want that?”

This time, they parted away to have a better look at each other. “That’s a difficult one, Y/N. I know things won’t be the same as they were a year ago.”

The sadness appeared in her eyes and he noticed. “Oh…”

“I know things are so fucked up. No more mutants are being born. If there are any left, which I highly doubt, they are all hiding.”

“You,” she started. “You wouldn’t want me back?” Y/N had to ask. She needed to know to move on. After everything, her heart belonged to him.

Logan closed his eyes and thought about his reply. “I will want you until the day I die. And that’s the thing. My days are coming to an end. Look what happened to me. I’m an old fuck, who could be your fucking grandfather now.”

“I still love you,” she said looking away. “I don’t care about any of it. You are my Logan. The one who protected me, helped me grow and made me a better person. Fuck, there was always a gigantic age gap between us. Do you think, just because you have grey hair and scars, will make me love you less?”

Logan shook his head in disbelief. “I always knew you were too good for me. Even now, you’ve been helping me while I had no idea you were alive. Shit. Such an angel in disguise.”

Y/N swallowed hard. A lump formed in her throat. “I have an antidote for you,” she blurted out. “If you want it. If you want a better life… with me.” She knew damn well how selfish and stupid it sounded.

“Antidote?”

She nodded. “I know, it’s crazy. I know you have no reason to trust me after being separated for a year, while you believed I was dead.” Her hands started to shake. The desperation was evident. She wanted him, needed him back in her life. “It’s up to you, Logan. I have it. If you want it.”

His phone started to ring. Logan’s eyes moved to the car, seeing the phone still in the holder vibrating. It had to be Caliban. “Shit, I need to head back home.”

Y/N’s heart dropped. Was this the end of it all? He didn’t want the antidote. He didn’t want her or another chance at life. “I understand.”

Logan reached for her hand. “You are coming with me, darlin’. We are not done with this conversation. I am not fucking done with you.” He brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. “Get in the car.”

“Logan-”

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re coming with me. Don’t you dare jump to conclusions, Y/N. We have a lot to discuss. And believe me, I’m not fucking letting you go.”

A warm smile appeared on her face. “Okay.”

“I just fucking hope you don’t have to leave now.”

“No,” she smiled at him. “I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll keep you safe, I swear on my life. I’ll get you out of here. Like I said, I already have a plan.”

Logan helped her get inside the vehicle. He drove them out of El Paso to a place he now called home. It wasn’t much, but it was a place where they could hide and survive. It was located near the US/Mexican borders, in the middle of a dusty nowhere.

Y/N watched his face the whole drive. She could see how he squinted, frowned out of nowhere. The smile that was on his face turned into a painful scowl. He was in pain. It was a moment like this when she wished she could heal other people with a simple touch. That’s not how her mutation worked.

When they arrived at an old abandoned smelting plant, the air was warm. Dust and dry land hit her nostrils once she got out of the limo.

“One more thing,” Logan said and coughed. “We have another mutant here. His name is Caliban.”

She frowned at him. Everyone knew Caliban. “If I were you, I’d kill him for what he had done in the past. Fucker used to help Transigen for a long time, tracking mutants for them. You were too kind to take him in.”

Logan huffed. He reached his hand towards her. She approached him, taking his hand into his. He got her inside the rusty old building. Together, they walked into a section that could be called ‘the kitchen’.

Y/N’s eyes wandered around, seeing all the empty bottles of alcohol. Old long rags hung from the walls. It was like a workroom. The smell of steel and ore. At least this was a safe place where they could sleep and eat.

“Logan?” Y/N turned to the sound to meet Caliban. She noticed how his eyes widened when they landed on her. “Shit, you are alive.”

“So are you,” she glared at him.

He took a sniff, frowning. “If I had known you’re alive, I’d have smelt you. I would have known about your presence. Something is different about you. I can’t smell the mutation on you.”

“Maybe it’s your own mutation weakening,” she growled at him.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Logan glared at Caliban.

“Don’t you find it odd that she’s alive?” he raised his voice, finger pointing at the woman. “How is that fucking possible? How come she doesn’t smell like one of us?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Caliban. Also, I don’t care if you don’t trust me, because I certainly don’t trust you.”

Logan’s lips turned into a smirk. He took off his black jacket and threw it on the wooden table. He rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up. There were scars over his forearms, even old bullet wounds that didn’t properly heal. He could feel her eyes on them.

“Come on, darlin’. I’ll take you to see Charles.”

Y/N made a face while looking at the albino mutant. With Logan, they left the kitchen area and headed to the back door. He took her into a different section of the lot, through a crooked door. The inside of the space was dark until Logan turned on a small light.

A movement came out of an old bed. “Who’s there?” Charles’s voice echoed around.

“I brought you, someone,” said Logan. “Someone you know very well. It might lift your spirits.”

Y/N had to smile when she heard Logan’s softer, calmer voice. Her hand gently brushed against his lower back when she walked closer to the old man. Her legs stopped at the edge of the bed where she saw a very old Charles Xavier with white longer hair and a stubble.

“Professor,” her voice was a mere whisper.

His eyes found her, eyeing her face and hair to the clothes and hands. He lost his breath for a moment. As if a ghost was standing in front of him. “Y/N?” he gasped. “Is that you?”

She nodded, smiling. “Yeah, Professor. It’s me.”

“How?”

Her lips opened, ready to tell him to read her mind. She immediately halted. Y/N knew his powers were not what they used to be. “My mutation saved me,” she gave him the simplest answer. “It evolved, like you taught us back at the school.”

Professor’s eyes moved from her to the man standing in the back. “You did at least something right,” he said to Logan. “You became such a disappointment. At least this-”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “Professor,” she scolded him. She never imagined these words escaping Professor’s lips.

She turned to Logan. He had a plastic case in his hands. Then he handed two pills to Charles. “Take them, now,” he said gruffly. “Come on.”

Charles did as told, swallowing the pills and sticking out his tongue at Logan like a child.

“We’ll let you rest,” Y/N said, smiling weakly at the old man. “I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“You are staying?” he asked. He received a simple nod from her and it made him smile.

Logan brought her to a room with one bed. There were several empty bottles of liquor, cigar butts and other shit. It was spacious, smelled like alcohol, cigars and Logan. This was all he had. At least some privacy, a place to sleep. Those days of living in luxury were long gone.

He turned on the light. It was yellow, illuminating the place enough for them to see. “You can take the bed,” he said, breaking her thoughtfulness.

Y/N glared at them. “And where will you sleep?”

He opened and closed his mouth. There were many options, including the damn limo. But he wished to sleep next to her like they used to before as a couple. Logan huffed.

“You know, you look very handsome in those formal clothes,” she said. “Sexy, dare I say.”

“Those were the days when I was,” he scoffed. “Now, I’m basically a fossil.”

Y/N slowly took off her long jacket. She put her hand into her pocket, feeling the glass vial. Her hand let loose and draped the piece of clothing over a chair - or something that looked like it. The hat was long forgotten in the back seats of the limo. Then, she approached him, carefully resting her hands on his chest. When he didn’t move, she gently unbuttoned the white shirt for him.

“Y/N,” he sighed her name.

“Will you let me do this?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet. “Will you let me show you, that in my eyes you are still the handsome man I still love?”

She helped him take off the button-up and let it fall on the dirty ground. “Fuck,” his breath hitched. “Darlin’.”

Her hands moved up, gently stroking the skin on his neck until she reached his bearded face. “The beard suits you. Miss the mutton chops, though,” the left side of her lips curled up.

Logan couldn’t resist. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. One, two and then his tongue asked permission to enter to which she obliged. His big hands slid down her back to her ass, taking a handful of it. “I missed you,” he admitted between the kisses.

“Missed you too,” she nodded. When their lips disconnected, she grabbed him by the white tank top he wore and dragged it out of his pants. Y/N helped him get rid of it. She could sense the hesitation from him.

Once it was off, her hands gently stroked his hard chest. Her fingers delicately brushed all the scars that littered his still muscular body. The regeneration was barely working. There was a day-old wound. Someone fucking shot him a day ago and the wasn’t there to protect him. Without thinking, Y/N pressed her lips on his left pectoral, right above his nipple and a scar he had there.

“Why are you doing this?”

Her hands slipped to the belt of his pants. “To show you that I love you the way you are,” she admitted. “That I want you no matter what.”

Logan stopped her by grabbing her wrists and pressing them back to his chest. He didn’t let her go. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I…” she closed her eyes and pressed her ear against his beating heart. The sound soothed her. It was a sign he was here and alive. “I want to show you, that I do want you whether you are old or young. I want you to know, that even if you don’t want the antidote, I’m here with you until…” her voice broke. The thought of him dying was terrifying.

“The antidote,” he sighed. Honestly, he forgot about it. The conversation before was short.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it…”

Logan helped her sit on the bed. Their knees touched. His big hands held her smaller ones. He remained close to her. “I need you to tell me more about it. All I know is that you have it and it has to do something with the adamantium poisoning my body.”

“All I know is this: The antidote will stop the poisoning and stop the dying process. A friend of mine was able to make a new element that successfully fought the molecules of the adamantium. Many outcomes may happen once you take the antidote. There is only a 1% chance of side effects. Hell, even less than that.”

“What are some of the outcomes?” he asked.

“Either it’ll only cure you and stop the ageing and dying process. Or the regenerating factor will kick in and heal the scars and wounds littering your body,” she named a few.

Logan shook his head. “So, no matter what, I’ll be stuck in this old body.” He winced when a wave of pain hit his body. His hand reached for the first bottle he found, drinking the alcohol like a lemonade.

“Sexy old body,” she grinned at him. “Would it matter?” she raised her brows. “You’ll be strong again. No more pain. No more booze as painkillers.” Y/N reached for the bottle and took it away from his hands. “I’m here, with you, Logan. You don’t have to do this alone.”

The next words he said were something he’d never imagined he would say to anyone. “I’m scared, Y/N. There is this fear inside of me that life will suck for another two hundred years. And now, here, with you, I fear that I’m gonna lose you again. It was painful the first time. I’m not gonna be able to do it again.”

Carefully, she climbed onto his lap. He put her hands on her waist while Y/N buried her fingers into his hair. “That’s how I feel now. I feel I’m going to lose you just when I was able to get to you.” She then brushed the tired skin under his eyes with a thumb. “I don’t want to lose you, but I will if you won’t take the antidote. Fuck, I want to be so selfish and convince you to take it. However, the choice is yours.”

Hot tears spilt from her eyes. The choked sobs made Logan clench his heart. He knew his girl would never force him even when she wanted to. She was never selfish. It was his choice. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent. Damn, she smelled better than he remembered.

“I want to sleep on that,” he said. “I’m so fucking tired. I should take a shower.”

She tilted her head and smiled suggestively at him. “How about we take it together?” she asked, voice innocent and sweet.

“Hm, you really wanna get inside my pants,” he laughed which made him cough.

Y/N glared at him. “You make me look like a perv,” she said.

“Who was undressing me minutes ago?”

“Who let me and didn’t stop me at the beginning?” she asked back.

Logan patted her ass cheeks. “Come on, darlin’. I’ll show you the hole I shower in. At least we’ll save some water.”

They got off the bed. First, Logan walked to an old wardrobe where he took out a simple t-shirt and some boxers he rarely used. He handed them to Y/N. “Something to wear afterwards,” he said.

Like Logan said, it was a hole where he usually showered. It was big enough for two, even three people at the same time. It had hot and cold water. He had a soap and a shower gel. Hell, he had a spare towel, a smaller one, for Y/N.

He leaned against a washbasin when his eyes locked on Y/N’s body. He watched her like a hawk as she undressed from her all-black attire. Over a year had passed since he saw her like this - exposed to his hungry eyes. She was right there, showing him her gorgeous body. No shame, no need to cover herself up. Only a gentle smile tugged at her lips.

Y/N called him in. She put her body under the warm stream of water. This time it was her turn to watch him undress from the pants. And, like before, he didn’t wear any underwear. Her eyes were met with his semi-hard member.

More scars littered his thick thighs. Mostly slashes from knives. And yet, he was still beautiful. A sexy man who had her heart for a very long time.

His lips pressed into the back of her neck once he stepped inside the shower. His strong arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her back to his chest.

Logan’s hands caressed her body. He felt every curve, exploring her as if it was for the first time. Her body was soft and warm. When one of the hands brushed up through her navel to the left breast, he squeezed it and then moved up and wrapped it around her neck. “So pretty, all mine.”

They couldn’t resist each other. Logan had her pressed against a cold wall in no time, slowly filling her up with his cock. He enjoyed every push, every clench. He muttered sweet nothings into her ear as she moaned his name. Slow, sexy and filled with love. No, he wasn't fucking her like in the past - hard, rough. This was lovemaking. Emotions played the main role here.

After the shower, and a long soft make-out session, they returned to the old bed. Logan put her body over his. Like this, they could sleep on the bed until the very morning. Or at least Y/N did.

Logan kept thinking most of the night about the person in his arms. Some higher force brought them back together. In the past, he lost everyone he loved. When Y/N came into his life, he hesitated to let her in. That woman swallowed his heart and made him feel things he never knew were possible. When he lost her again, and the rest of his X-men family, he was ready to end it all and die. Not anymore.

“Baby?”

This was the first time Logan used this pet name since reuniting. Y/N’s eyes opened immediately, her head tilting up at Logan. Was something happening? “Everything okay?” she asked.

Logan brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were small, tired. But they sparkled when he looked closer. “I’ll take the antidote.”

“Really?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I have you now. I have something worth living. I thought about your survival and your mutation. Shit, you can heal now, Y/N. It’s giving me hope that I’ll be able to spend many more years with you.”

Y/N climbed up his body to press her lips onto his. It was a sweet, short peck. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to force you or anything. This is purely your choice.”

He grabbed her face into his hands, staring into her eyes. “I love you,” he said. “Let’s do this now.”

“Oh, okay!”

While she went into her jacket to get the antidote and an injection, Logan sat up and cracked his fingers. His hands were shaking. A painful groan escaped his throat when he felt another wave of pain. He longed to take a bottle that called his name and drink it in one go.

Logan’s red, tired eyes rather moved to the sweet ass of his woman. The view was nice, distracting. A smile formed behind his thick beard as he memorised it.

Y/N got back to the bed and prepared the blue liquid. “One more thing,” she sighed. “We don’t know whether the healing process will be painful or not. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

“I’ll manage. I’ve been through a lot of shit. It’s not gonna be painful as the damn application of adamantium into my bones. Or the feeling when I thought I lost you.” He stretched his left arm, showing her the big vein popping out.

She took a deep breath through her nose and lowered the needle to his skin until it penetrated it. She injected the antidote into the vein and took the needle out. The tiny wound instantly closed.

Logan’s breathing sped up. He frowned, gasped for air and grunted. He was in a lot of pain. The effect started fast. Y/N dropped the empty injection on the ground. She jumped up, grabbing Logan by his wide shoulders. “Breathe,” she told him. His body was hot, sweating. “Logan, breathe.”

A scream erupted from his throat. His fists clenched, eyes closed shut. It was evident the pain was unbearable. The roaring brought Caliban into his room. His mutant eyes wide as he watched Logan rolling on the bed in excruciating pain.

“What the fuck have you done to him?” he shouted at Y/N.

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. “Wait!” she yelled at Caliban, raising a hand not to intervene.

That’s when she noticed that every wound, every ugly scar started to disappear, leaving the skin nice and smooth. It was working. She felt some relief inside her soul.

Logan’s chest was heaving. Grunts and snarls came out of his mouth. Luckily, the shouting was done. He was calming down. All those voices and pain turned into heavy breathing.

“Logan?” Y/N appeared above him. She scanned his face and moved downwards his body to his rising and falling chest.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did it work?”

Caliban appeared above him. “What the hell? How is this possible?”

“Yes, it did,” Y/N smiled.

Logan’s body healed. Every wound, scar or pain he felt minutes ago was gone. Even his eyes looked brighter. The redness was gone as well as the dark bags under them.

He lifted his body from the bed and found Y/N’s face. Both hands pressed to her cheeks and then moved down her neck. “Fuck, you look so damn beautiful. I can fucking see. My vision was fucked. I had to wear reading glasses.”

“Hey,” Caliban reminded them he was present in the room. “What have you done to him?”

“I cured him,” she said.

“How’s that possible?”

“I have my ways,” she replied, eyes never leaving Logan’s face. A smile played on her lips. She couldn’t stop staring into his pretty face. Well, he was handsome even before she gave him the antidote. “How do you feel?”

Logan pressed a kiss to her lips, hugging her body as he pulled her into his lap. He was never fond of PDA, but now, he didn’t give a shit about it. If it made Caliban uncomfortable, good. At least that fucker would leave his room and give them some privacy.

The kiss ended. “I feel reborn. I don’t feel any pain. I can see clearly. Like a goddamn miracle.” Logan put her down on the bed next to him and walked to a mirror he had in the room. “Fuck!” he gasped. He stared at his reflection.

He kept searching for the scars on his shoulders and his face. Or the one over his ribs. There was nothing. What remained was the grey-brown short hair or the thick beard. His fingers touched every part of his face, just to be sure it wasn’t an illusion.

“At least I don’t have to watch the puss on his knuckles,” Caliban commented. “By the way, it’s time to give Charles his medication. Since you are all cheerful and healthy, it’s your turn. I had a rough night,” he said grumpily.

Logan glared at the mutant. “Fine.”

Once Caliban was out of the room, Y/N walked to Logan. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Anything for you. Now, it’s time to move to the rest of my plan,” she said. “I have a safe place for us. It’s gonna be a long drive to Canada, but everything is set and ready. And by us, I also included Charles. We need to take care of him. He once welcomed us to the mutant school. It’s our turn to do the same.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Always the one with a plan. What about Caliban?”

“Sorry, not included,” she said. “He did a lot of shit in his life. I can arrange some supplies for him once we leave, but that’s it.”

“When do we leave?”

“As soon as we can. Let’s give Charles his meds, pack everything you need and leave,” said Y/N.

Logan took a deep breath. “Come here,” he whispered. He needed to kiss her. It was like sealing a deal with Y/N, that this was the new beginning, a new chance to have a better life. Was this finally his happy ending?

#Logan Howlett x reader #old man Logan x reader #Wolverine x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Old man Logan x female reader #Wolverine x female reader #X-men fanfiction #Logan Howlett

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brandileigh2003 · 3 months ago

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Raising Harry and/or teddy recs. I know I'm missing some so send me your faves or self rec ❤️❤️

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

-orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond get back together ft Chronic Illness

-my love, take care of yourself by @littleoldrachel ft mental health and chronic

-Anything that msalexwp writes that includes the trope is fantastic

Let's Play Pretend muggle fake dating real feelings

Second Generation get back together

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe get back together ft Chronic Illness @lavenderhaze

-Like Real People Do by thirdcrow: coffee shop, great disability rep

-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account muggle get together

-Babysitting For Dummies by Middleofamoment (37k) au raising teddy get together (theres a sequel and 3rd to come)

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417: muggle texting kidfic

-Blue Moon Café by @lazuli-moon raising teddy coffee shop

-Forever Is a State of Mind -orphaned account ft deaf remus

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot

-the mayors of simpleton by @fruityindividual older wolfstar get back together ft blind remus

-Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing divergent

-Of Quiet Hearts And Thundering Dreams by @tracingpatternswrites

-Spare! by B1ackCatChatsBack muggle get together

-I didn’t sign up for this by Moonystoastandmarsbars get back together

-Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @squintclover and TracingPatterns magical divergent

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by @ratmom819 ft chronic illness

-Puppy Magic by @demonbanisher thefifthmarauder17 magical divergent

-what a wonder (what a waste) by peachyybabe mcd magical divergent ft trans remus, mental illness and

-Aging Gracelessly by orphan_account older wolfstar texting

-So I'll Take My) Good Fortune by orphan_account muggle uni

-The Molinete & the Media Luna by punkwolfstar ft disability

-beautiful boy (darling boy) by @impishtubist and roaming_the_greenwood1: magical divergent ft trans remus

-Multiplying Parents by @heartofspells harry wants to find Sirius a bf

-ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 muggle au get together

-The Things I Did by Lolo_row divergent

-Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment older wolfstar get back together @mayescapade

-Basilisks, Boggarts and Boyfriends (oh my) by OptimisticDinosaur

-Of Caffeine Addictions and Nail Polish by BlueAzalea au pining and fluff

Check out my fandom wife lucigoo she has some wonderful ones

Common Woodbrown by @imochan

that’s the art of getting by sarewolf

----Self rec: parks and playdates ft disability plus trans and asexual remus

~~Others' recs ~~

-Wherever I am/ you will always be - BrigidFaye

(anon): Under Foot, Under Moon by sometimeswelose

-An unexpected reunion- r33sesPieces

Rhythm & Blues by lez_writes13

stealing harry by @copperbadge

-Blanket Fort by @samynnad102687 : Regulus, James, and Harry build a blanket fort.

-Trick-or-Treating by Samynnad102687: The Marauders, Regulus, and Lily take Harry Trick-or-Treating.

-Unbound by you by friendlyneighborhoodtrickster, TracingPatterns

-Moonless Nights by @sliebman10 Sirius is trying to rebuild his life after the fateful Halloween of 1981. He's struggling to come to terms with Remus's betrayal and his new role as Harry's guardian.

-Family Vacation by sliebman10: Sirius is skeptical that a family resort is where he wants to spend his first summer vacation with Harry there, but he comes to see its merits when he meets Remus and his family.

-All the soul and body scars by 1point21

-To build a family - secondsister

-Forever live and die - wolfpants

--feel free to check it my main rec list

Also - the wolfstar librarian has awesome collections for raising harry

**new additions**

-oh, summer child by peachyybabe Sirius and remus get pregnant. Fluff 💙

#raising harry potter #raising teddy lupin #wolfstar raising harry #wolfstar raising teddy #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #wolfstar #fic recs #fanfic rec #fanfiction recommendations

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yup-thats-me · 6 months ago

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—little things • I. Obanai

pairing: husband!Iguro x wife!reader summary: some days can be tough but Obanai is grateful to have his wife right by his side warning: negative self-image, self-hatred, manga spoilers. be warned

“What does she see in me?”

Iguro touched his reflection in the mirror, his eyes glossed over with tears. It's almost been three years since the serpent Hashira married his sweetheart, Y/n. Although their marriage was a strategy devised by their families to strengthen the clans, Obanai is grateful that he does not have to suffer an unhappy marriage like most arranged couples do.

It must be for of his good deed in his previous life that he got a wife like Y/n. She is kind, supportive, understanding and loving. She showed him love and affection, something he could only dream of when he was a child. She understood that when he would distance himself when his past weighed him down, she would give him space but if it got out of hand, she would slowly push her way through and embrace Obanai. An embrace so warm that made all his worries go away, be that a physical one or an embrace through words. She knew how to calm him down.

Iguro knew Y/n loved him, she could never betray him, not even in his dreams. But there are days. Days that his mind tells him that he is not deserving of the love he receives from his darling wife. Days where he hates his heterochrome eyes, days when he wishes those vile women had slashed through his cheeks completely so that he would have been dead. Dying is better than being ashamed of his face. If he were to die, he would not need to bandage his face at present.

But, somewhere deep down in his heart, he knows that it would not have been better had he died. Had he died in his childhood, he would have never met Y/n, would have never known how warm her hand feels against his cheek, how affection feels. He would have died without knowing any of that; something he did not want.

His eyes were closed shut, jaw clenched. Fingers closed in a tight fist. What exactly hurt him, he did not know. But it hurt, oh it hurts so much. It is days like this that he wishes for Y/n’s presence. Sure, he can call her right now. Maybe she is in the bath, getting ready for bed and would be by his side in a minute, but he did not have the heart to busy her with such a trivial matter. It's better not to worry her about his mood swings, she tolerates enough of him already.

“I hate my face, I hate the way my eyes look, hate how weak I am,” he said through gritted teeth. He continued on his list of the things that he hates about himself, immersed in his thoughts so deep that he did not hear Y/n entering the room.

Smiling softly, Y/n stood beside him in front of the mirror.

“I love the cute expressions you make when surprised.”

Her sudden voice made Iguro step back in surprise. He quickly composed himself, turning his face to the side to wipe his tears from her view. There’s no way a man should let his wife see him crying.

Y/n gently put her hands on his cheek, making the man look at her eyes. “I love the way your cheeks get flushed red when I compliment you,” she coaxed, her fingers slowly making their way to the back of his head.

“Love the way you look away when you hand me a present.” Her fingers found the beginning of the white cloth; the bandage. Iguro stared at her. He felt the bandage around his mouth loose a bit but he did not want to push her hand away, not when she felt so warm, so comforting.

His wife pecked him on the cheek, his heart skipping a beat when he felt her lips on his cheek. No matter how many times she kissed him, it still felt like a fever dream. She caressed his face lovingly, her touch almost making him forget that the bandage came off his face; his face was bare, bare for her to see.

“And,” She stroked the scars as lightly as a feather. “I adore your scars.”

He could not force the tears from blocking his vision.

“How can you say you hate these when I absolutely love them?’’

“…”

“My love, when will you see yourself the way I do?”

She gently shook his head making him open his eyes to face her. “Your eyes, my love. They hold kindness in them. How can anybody not love this magnificent piece of art?” Her own orbs glossed over with tears.

“I cannot thank you enough for being alive, today,” a choked sob rippled through her chest. “So please, please love yourself.”

Iguro’s arms wrapped around her neck as he pushed his face into the crook of her neck, his tears wetting the skin.

“And if you can’t,” she whispered.

“Let me love you enough for the both of us.”

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klaramarieleblochova · 6 months ago

Text

"Ladies do not have dreams, they have husbands."

This sentence sends Pen straight back to Lady Whistledown.

I am 10000% sure she's ready to let her die, to bury her secret, and start fresh. But this line from Portia makes her snap. Because eventhough she loves this man and it's her hearts desire to be with him, she's more than that. She deserves more than to be just someone's wife, someone's extention, she's human too, she's done much more.

And I honestly love it. Yes, show us the motives, show us why, this is it!

If I thought me before May 16 was pure madness, what is this then???

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #polin #romancing mister bridgerton #nicola coughlan #luke newton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton s3 #lady whistledown #portia featherington

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moonchildstyles · 7 months ago

Note

I would simply die for an Aster blurb about them moving in together and christening their new room

wordcount: 9.4k+

—————

(Y/N)'s body felt heavy by the time she stacked the final box in what was now her new bedroom. She couldn't help herself before she was flopping onto the bare mattress on the floor, her back popping as soon as she laid back.

It'd been a long day and a half between transporting the boxes, breaking down furniture, and cleaning out whatever she wasn't taking with her in the move. The last step had been spending the morning unpacking what she could and organizing the remaining boxes. Harry was doing the hard work of putting together the furniture they'd just broken down, and setting up the new pieces they picked up to fill out the rest of their space.

Mitch and Sarah had helped as they could, but they were readying for their own move. Now that (Y/N) and Harry were in their own place, Sarah would be moving in with Mitch in the house, leaving their apartment empty at the end of the month.

(It had been a tearful conversation when they realized neither of them would be signing onto the lease once more, (Y/N) especially saddened at the thought of the first place she considered a real home now sitting empty. Her reassurance came in the form of knowing Sarah would still only be fifteen minutes away from her new home, and she would be with Harry now—her real home, if she wanted to get sentimental).

Staring up at the ceiling with her limbs spread out, (Y/N) took in a long breath.

It was odd already, seeing the differences in the ceiling despite the texture not being too far off from what it was like at her apartment or Harry's old house. Even the mattress under her wasn't the same, Harry having urged them to get a bigger one—even more than the one he used to have. Though the walls were still bare, she already knew how different it would be from either of her previous spaces; more black would be involved than she ever imagined herself living in.

All the change had her bones aching that much more.

"Break time?"

Craning her neck up, she spotted Harry standing in the doorway wearing a small smile on his lips. Though he had his hair tied back with one of the many scrunchies he'd stolen, stray curls still stuck to his temples, attracted to the sheen glossing his skin. No eyeliner darkened his gaze at the moment, but the sleeveless cut of his shirt allowed all of his tattoos to sit in the morning light.

God, she was going to have to buy curtains soon, too.

"I guess," she sighed, flopping back onto the mattress.

Harry let out a huff of laughter, his footsteps giving him away as he crossed the room only to flop beside her.

He laid in silence next to her, looking at the same ceiling they would be gazing at every night together.

"What are y'thinking about?" he asked, his voice a murmur.

(Y/N) swallowed, reaching for his hand between them. "We're moving in together."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "I know."

Hearing his own joy, she couldn't help the smile touching at the corners of her lips. "You're excited?"

He pulsed his hand around hers. "Of course I am—I've been excited since Barcelona. 'S me and you now, baby."

She liked the way he talked about this change, shaving the nervous edge from her thoughts. Change didn't sound so bad if it meant she was doing it with him. "You'll never have to drop me off anymore."

Letting out a plume of laughter, Harry rolled over to hover above her. Stationing his elbow by her head, he placed his cheek in his palm, squishing his smile as he gazed down at her.

"I know—you'll be stuck with me all the time now."

"You'll be stuck with me," she countered, voicing one of the thoughts that'd been floating through her head these last weeks as the move became more real. What if, once the honeymoon wore off, he'd realize he didn't like living with her as much as he'd hoped?

"Sounds like a dream to me," he told her, readily fending off her unsaid worry. "How long do y'think 's gonna take for you to start getting up early with me, or for me to start sleeping in with you?"

A small huff of laughter fanned from her lungs. "I don't know—you tell me, because I'm not getting up early like you unless I have to."

"We'll see," he said, placing his free hand on the soft of her cheek, "It'll only take a couple mornings of breakfasts before you're up with me every day."

He had her there, truthfully. She loved breakfast, and she wouldn't put it past him to use it against her in an effort to change her sleep cycle.

Leaning into his hand on her cheek with her eyes matching his above her, she felt herself soften up that much more. "You're really happy, though? No cold feet?"

Harry's expression leveled out, sincerity in his eyes. "'M more than happy, angel. Really, I've been thinking about this for a long time with you. Get t'have you all the time now—everything feels real now. 'M excited."

It was the light in his eyes, the way he didn't flinch from her gaze or trail away, that had her chest tightening. His words felt like a vow to her ears. Everything did feel real now—in the scariest, most exciting, nerve-wracking, dream fulfilling way.

This was all she'd ever wanted, to have a home filled with love and trust. Harry would make that a reality for her, starting with this move.

"You're happy?" he prodded, thumbing over her cheekbone.

"Really happy," she affirmed, nodding her head, "Scared, but in a good way."

He tipped his head as he listened to her, a dimple popping into his cheek. "'S a change, but a good change, right?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "Good change."

Ducking down, Harry pressed his lips to hers. Despite the long morning they had picking through and transporting boxes, he didn't lack any energy as he poured that assuring affection through the kiss.

"Love you," she murmured when he pulled away, lashes fluttering in a blink.

"Love you, too," he drawled, voice a low rumble just for her. "After I finish putting up the shelves, we can get lunch."

Maybe it was nostalgia or reaching for something familiar amidst the change that had her suggesting, "Little House?"

His grin stretched with dimples in his cheeks and bunny-like front teeth on display. "Anything y'want, lovebug."

She could definitely get used to hearing that.

—————

"What's next on the list?"

Peering at her phone with knitted brows, (Y/N) scrolled through the list of all the things they needed to pick up during their grocery trip.

"Um," she mused, making sure she was noting everything they had packed away in the trolley already, "Pasta."

Harry hummed in response. "This way, I think," he murmured, leading them down the aisles until she saw the many different boxes and bags displayed on the shelves.

Parking the cart on the opposite side of the aisle, Harry looked at the different options before them with a critical eye as if he were looking at more than just varying shapes of pasta.

"Do y'care what kind?" he asked, reaching for a blue box of plain spaghetti on the shelf.

"Not really, but," she started, spotting her preferred brand just a few boxes down, "The green box is better."

Following her line of sight, he found the brand she referred to just for his features to pinch. "Wheat noodles?"

"Well, yeah," she said, her own brows meeting in the middle with a pinch.

"You... actually eat that?" Harry asked, almost looking offended at this new detail he found out about her.

"They're good," she countered, defensive.

Harry shook his head, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "I always thought those were Sarah's when I was over."

"Do you not like them?" (Y/N) pressed, popping a hip the longer he stood there arguing with her.

"No one likes wheat noodles, love. You're the first person I've ever met that eats them by choice."

"They're good!" she repeated, a whine to her voice, "Stop being mean."

"I'm not being mean," he shook his head, grabbing for one of her wheat boxes along with one of his regular blue boxes, "Jus' didn't know that about you. Next, you're gonna tell me that y'only eat green bananas or plain yogurt."

When she didn't answer as he loaded the cart with their new finds, Harry glanced up at her with amusement in his eyes.

"(Y/N)..."

"Green bananas last longer," she cemented, "And plain yogurt is really good with honey. Don't be mean."

Harry only shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he steadied the trolley with his free hand. "You're cute, angel. That's all."

He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head in the privacy of their aisle, his smile felt against the strands.

"And, a little weird."

Looking up at him with accusing eyes, (Y/N) whined out his name. "No, I'm not."

"Sure," he smiled, teasing her that much more before dotting a kiss to the tip of her nose, "What's next?"

(Y/N) hoped he didn't catch the smile gracing her lips when she shook her head.

—————

Though it felt a bit silly to be so dressed up with nowhere to go, (Y/N) couldn't resist twirling before the mirror in her bedroom.

Her dress was short, a stiff corset making up the bodice while the skirt flared around her hips until hitting the mid of her thigh, everything draped in baby pink satin. Her arms were left free aside from a barely there gathering of lace that sagged over her biceps, a faux sleeve that did nothing to keep the bodice high on her chest. More lace was overlaid on the rest of the dress, threaded with shimmering gold to sparkle every time she caught the light.

It was a dress she'd had for over a year now, having never worn it before tonight. It always felt much too fancy for anything she'd go out for, and much too extravagant for her to feel comfortable in.

But, tonight was date night. Their first date night in their new home. It felt like a special enough occasion to finally grow the confidence to don the gown, even if she was still a bit nervous that she was doing too much. Especially since this date night would be spent in their dining room.

Satisfied with the way her hair fell and her cheeks held a dewy flush thanks to all of the cosmetics on the bathroom counter (Harry still needed to finish building her vanity, so until then she was taking over their ensuite), she padded out of the bedroom on socked feet.

They had almost completely finished packing, only. a few boxes and pieces of furniture waiting. Everything was a perfect mix of the two of them, (Y/N) thought. There was a pink throw blanket over their grey couch, a cherry blossom shaped lamp on their glass coffee table, a fluffy pink cat bed housing a black bat toy. There were photos of them littering the walls, some from their time in Barcelona, but many from the quiet moments they spent at home with one another. While (Y/N) had never imagined living in a home with so much black and other muted tones, everything served as a reminder that this was a home she'd made with someone else—someone she loved.

She'd learn to live with it, she decided.

The kitchen was warm as she padded over the tiles, the light in the oven on as she peeked through the glass to check on the lasagna cooking inside. With the extra cheese bubbling on top, she figured—hoped—the dish would be ready in a few minutes, giving her just enough time to plate and serve everything when Harry walked through the door.

Evie circled her feet as she moved towards the dining table, nearly tripping (Y/N) just as Harry warned her his kitten would attempt to do the first time (Y/N) met her all that time ago.

"Careful, Evie," she scolded her with a gentle tone, reaching down to pet between her ears, "I almost kicked you." Ever the beggar, Evie only chirped up at her with big eyes the way she had when (Y/N) was layering the lasagna in hopes of earning some extra scraps. "Later," (Y/N) promised her, carefully stepping around Evie, "After it's out of the oven, I'll give you some pieces before your dad sees."

The table was already set, complete with candles and intricate place mats. There was a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge (did wine even go in the fridge? She'd have to ask Harry later) next to the strawberry shortcake she'd bought from the shops, and the heart shaped speaker she'd stolen from their bathroom was now perched on the kitchen island. As soon as the lights were lowered, (Y/N) hoped their home would feel just as nice as the restaurants Harry loved taking her to.

After the timer went off, she pulled the dish from the warm oven, basil and oregano scenting through the space. Checking the time, she made haste as she put the finishing touches on the space. Once squares of lasagna were cut out, she attempted to place extra basil leaves atop the bake in hopes of emulating a heart—an idea she'd seen on Pinterest. She connected a soft playlist to filter from the small speaker. Flames danced in the candle votives, warming the space just as he lowered the lights.

Just as she popped the plates on the placemats, she heard the distinct crackling of the garage door opened. A smile spread across her features.

Harry was home.

She couldn't contain how antsy she was as she stood next to the made up table, rocking in her spot with her dress twirling around her. Gosh, she hoped he liked what she did.

Evie chirped at the door she'd learned Harry would come through when he came home, circling and looking up in wait of her dad. (Y/N) sympathized with her energy.

Harry's heavy footsteps sounded just before the door swung open, his gentle voice crooning as soon as he saw his Evie running out to greet him.

"Hey, you," he smiled, reaching down to pet her head, "How was your day, hm? Where's mummy?"

At that same moment, he peered up, noticing the low lights in the house and the warm scent drifting through. She had her hands knotted behind her, unable to stop them from fidgeting by the time his gaze slid over her.

"Hi, love," he said after a moment, though his eyes never strayed from the neckline of her dress, "What's got you all dressed up? Did I forget something?"

She shook her head. "It's date night," she told him, "First one in the new house."

"Pretty special occasion, then. When did y'get that dress?" His eyes finally shifted down the rest of the length to where frilly socks circled her ankles before landing on her face once more. A smile bloomed on his cheeks.

"I've had it for a while, just never wore it," she shared, swallowing around the nerves that all of his attention garnered, "I made dinner."

It seemed then that he realized there was more than just her and her dress in the room. She watched as he took in the set up and the plates of dinner, the smell in the house and the candles lighting the room.

"You did," he said, finally stepping away from the threshold and towards her, "Everything looks wonderful—especially you."

"Thank you," she smiled, falling into his arms as soon as he opened them. Settling her chin on his chest, she dazed up at him with moony eyes. "How was work?"

While it was far from the first time she'd asked him that exact question, it definitely had a different ring to it knowing that he'd just come home—to their home—from his first day of work since moving in.

"Good," he murmured, his eyes seemingly twinkling in the candle light with his eyeliner smudged under his eyes, "Long. Jus' wanted to be home with you and Evie."

Hearing that never got old to (Y/N). "I missed you, too," she declared, squeezing her arms around his middle, "Did you still have fun?"

"A little," he teased, "Y'were busy today though, hm?"

"A little," she parroted, growing sheepish under his gaze, "This is our first real dinner that isn't takeout here. I wanted it to be special."

Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked at the spread on the dining table once more. "Definitely did jus' that, angel. I feel underdressed," he laughed, his hands laced behind her back trailing down the flared skirt of her dress.

"I think you look nice," she countered, drawing her own eyes down to the ink on his neck, the roses blooming as he swallowed.

"I look like I jus' came home from work," he said, laughing off her compliment.

"But, you came home to me," she murmured, unsure of what her point was, but knowing that there was no way he was ever going to look bad when he was coming back to their home.

His expression softened then, leaving only a single dimple dented in his cheek and a lopsided smile on his raspberry lips. "I did, didn't I?"

(Y/N) nodded up at him before Harry ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to her soft lips. She could feel her lip gloss sliding between their mouths, surely leaving a stain on his own though he didn't care with the way he slotted their lips together. It was a kiss full of affection, where his hands on the small of her back had her pressed to him. Tipping his head just so, he deepened the kiss with a taste of her lips on his tongue.

He pulled away first, only after smattering a string of pecks across her pout. He was rewarded with a plume of laughter fanning from her mouth.

"'M gonna get changed, but I'll be right back, 'kay?" he told her, untangling his arms from around her waist.

"Okay," she sighed dreamily, reluctant to let go of him though she was able to, instead, watch him walk to their shared bedroom instead.

He only turned around once to catch her admiring him.

—————

(Y/N) wanted to huff when Harry blocked her from reaching into the water-filled sink for the third time. She settled for planting her hands on her hips, and pouting at the back of his head.

"I can help, H. It's fine," she attempted to reason with him again.

As if he hadn't heard her at all, he continued with his hands in the soapy water, cleaning off the dishes they'd used for dinner. He'd already packed away the leftovers of the lasagna and stowed away the remaining half-bottle of wine she'd uncorked for the night; she wanted to help before the opportunity was gone.

Her pout only puffed out further, feeling a tiny bit like an insolent child when she debated if stamping her foot would catch his attention.

"Harry," she scolded.

"(Y/N)," he countered, parroting her scolding tone right back, "I've got it, my love. Jus' relax now."

"But we're supposed to be a team," she complained, "I'm not supposed to let you do this by yourself."

At that, Harry finally chanced a look over his shoulder at her. His eyes were tender, bright green against the refreshed liner he had applied when he changed before dinner. The lines of his face were soft as he gazed at her, his lips slightly curling while the line of his jaw held a rounded edge.

"We are a team, baby," he emphasized, wiping his hands down before turning to face her, "You made dinner, so 'm doing dishes. That sounds like teamwork to me, don't you think?"

(Y/N) opened her mouth before swiftly closing it, unsure of what to say to that. At the end of it all, deep in her chest where she didn't enjoy digging, was that fear that if she didn't pull her weight, show her worth as more than just a little playmate for Evie or someone to crowd the bathroom with all of her products.

But that wasn't exactly a romantic date night conversation, was it?

He waited patiently as she attempted to find her words, leaning back against the counter with an adoring gaze. When nothing coherent came from her lips, only a sputtering of a half-baked excuse, he reached towards her with gentle hands.

Grasping her waist over the structure of her dress, he pulled her towards him until she was flush to his chest. Only when she wrapped her own arms around his middle, fingers looping around his back, did he set a careful hand on her cheek.

Brushing stray hairs from her face, he tilted his head as a small smile touched his lips. "You know 'm still going to take care of you, right? Jus' because we live together now, doesn't change that. Y'don't have to prove anything—not to me."

With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) swore she could have cried hearing his words. She melted into his hold instead, enveloping him in a warming hug.

He knew her better than anyone before, that much she knew. It was enough to have her heart breaking only to grow bigger so she could fit more of him inside.

"Love you," she murmured, the words muffled against his chest as she squished herself against him.

"Love you more, angel," he reciprocated, dotting a kiss to the top of her head. Shifting his hands on her, he moved until his palms landed on her hips. "So you're going to sit right here, and let daddy take care of you."

It was the amusement swimming in his eyes and the lilting in her voice that made it clear he was only teasing, prodding and poking at her to get her in a lighter mood, but (Y/N) only felt her skin heat at the use of that title. It was quite the adjustment to know that he could speak so boldly outside of the bedroom now that there weren't any kind of roommates that could walk in at the last moment.

In a daze, she stepped back as he herded her to sit up on the counter beside the sink. She was left with her legs dangling with her skirt fanned across her thighs, hands knotted in her lap, and her eyes on his back. The music she had connected to the small speaker continued to thrum through the room, soft and low, creating a soundtrack for the moment.

It was silly, to feel so entranced as she watched him do something as mundane as rinsing dishes, but that was definitely what she was feeling.

He hadn't even changed into anything special before dinner, only a black button down with embroidered white flowers and a pair of fitted black trousers. His hair was left down after adjusting some of the curls he'd mussed during work, the length falling longer than she'd seen it before.

Maybe it was the fact that she could still hear his teasing comment ringing in her ears, or how much she truly had missed him throughout the day, but she couldn't take her eyes off him. She watched as his shoulders tensed and flexed through the fabric, the line of his muscles down the length of his arm. A part of her wanted to reach out, drag her hand down his biceps and feel the way they bunched and released as he worked.

She felt herself growing impatient the longer he worked through the soapy water, despite knowing there wasn't much of a mess for him to clean up given the limited dishes. Without thinking, she swung her socked foot out and tapped against his leg, dragging over the back of his calf.

A huff of laughter left Harry's lips though he continued working with only a small glance at her. "Wasn't enough to jus' watch me? Gotta touch me, too?"

She felt flustered to be called out like that, as if she hadn't wanted his attention in the first place. She only managed a small shrug of her shoulders.

Shaking his head, Harry put the last rinsed plate into the dishwasher and drained the sink. He took his time drying off his hands before reaching for her crossed legs. Setting his hands on her thighs, she pliantly let him spread them apart before he came to stand between her legs, his hands settling on the full of her thighs with a lingering touch.

"What are y'thinking about, love? Got all my attention now, jus' like y'wanted, right?"

His gaze on her features was warm enough that (Y/N) swore she could feel a warmth in its wake, heavy and unrelenting. She blinked up at him, a flutter of her lashes as he grew breathless. "I don't know—just... You."

"Me?" he smiled, dipping his head down until he was level with her, "You've got a crush on me or something?"

His teasing was enough to have a laugh drawn from her lungs, dropping her hands to land on his own as they roamed over her thighs, dipping underneath the hem of her dress. "Stop," she giggled.

"Ooh," he sung, "You like me, don't you? C'mon, love, can't hide it from me. So obvious, isn't it?"

"Stop it," she laughed, letting go of his hands and instead opting to loop her arms around his neck in a controlling hug, "I don't have a crush on you!"

"You don't?" Harry whined, a pout audible in his voice, "But, why'd y'move in with me then if y'don't even have a crush on me?"

Hooking her ankle around the back of his leg. She murmured into his neck, "Because I love you."

His arms created a cradle around her back, keeping her close as he quieted in her hug. "I love you too," he hummed, "So much. Thank you for doing all of this for us, love—everything was perfect."

Her grin stretched wider over her cheeks, "I'm happy you liked it all. First date at our new house."

"Still gotta take care of a lot of firsts here, don't we?" His hands on her body shifted then, caressing the structure of her dress, the pads of his fingers tracing the detailing of the lace.

With the way his voice dropped—and the fact he'd said what he said only a handful of minutes ago—, (Y/N) had somewhat of an idea of what kind of firsts he was referring to.

The past week had been hectic to say the least. Nothing more than cuddling and a few stray kisses were shared in their new bed, their bodies not having energy for anything more after their long days of making their house a new home.

Tightening the loop of her arms around his neck, she clung to him as she nodded into his neck. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" he parroted, a smile in his voice. Turning his head, he pressed his lips into a string of kisses from her temple down to her cheek, lingering kisses that dragged over her skin. She could feel her blood warming in his wake, her lashes fluttering as her eyes came to a close.

"Yeah, daddy."

Harry pulled in a long breath at the sound of his title wrapped in her voice, the tip of his nose dragging across her cheek. Finally, he planted his lips on hers, slotting between her own.

With her arms around his neck, (Y/N) practically melted into him with the broad of his body keeping her upright. She half-expected him to smile into the kiss, a small tease over seeing how ready she was for something as small as a kiss, but he did nothing more than tilt his head and strengthen his grip on her form.

It wasn't until she felt the tip of his tongue sweep across her lower lip that she gathered they hadn't even so much as kissed like this since moving. She hadn't realized the week had been so hectic as to leave no time for anything more than a few kisses and their cuddling before passing out as soon as the sun fell.

She hadn't realized how much she missed him until that second.

Reciprocating his kiss, lips parting and inviting him in, (Y/N) hitched a thigh over his hip. She clung to him with her fingers working into the baby soft curls on the back of his neck in a soft tug. He let out a sigh into her mouth, his hands pulsing on her waist. With her position on the counter, every flex of his hands on her body, she was drawn closer and closer to the edge, leaving her to wrap her limbs instead.

His tongue ran over her own, the taste of the strawberry shortcake dessert lingering. She could feel the tip of his nose nudging into her own, tracing the bridge with every tip of their heads. The soft sound of their lips parting and coming together filled the kitchen, sounding over the music she still had playing from the small speaker.

Drawing away from her kiss, he started down her jaw to the column of her throat. (Y/N) tilted her head back, allowing him more access to her heated skin as he kissed down to the neckline of her dress. Her hands in his hair tightened.

"Where are you going?" she murmured.

"Gonna take care of you, remember?" he said into her neck, the words melting into her skin, "Jus' like I promised."

With that, he fell to his knees before her, settling between her own spread legs. Her hands shifted, now combing the strands out of his face as she looked down at him. His palms glided over her dress until he found the hem, pushing it up and over her thighs to wrinkle at her waist.

"That okay, baby?" he asked, suddenly breathless as his eyes met the small part of underwear she had covering her core.

"Uh-huh," she nodded her head, nails catching on his scalp.

He shot her a soft smile, enough to dot dimples into his cheeks before her attention was diverted to the feel of his hands sitting on her bare thighs. Hooking his fingers into the waist of her underwear, all she needed was to lift her hips just enough before he was pulling the fabric down her legs.

The way he looked at her then, after pulling the garment off and fitting his hands between her thighs to widen the gap, brought her back to the first night in his office at the tattoo parlor. He gazed at her like he'd never seen her before, like this was the first time all over again. He didn't have to say anything to let her know that he saw her as something special.

Planting his lips across the inside of her thigh, the tip of his nose and the fan of his breath brought goosebumps to layer over her skin. He dragged his mouth across the sensitive skin, using his grip on her thighs to keep her steady as he tugged her towards the very edge of the counter—and his face.

It wasn't until she could feel his breath skimming over closer to her pussy that her muscles bunched, her own lungs stuttering. He peeked up at her through the fan of his lashes, matching her eyes for a lingering moment, leaving her with no other option than to watch as he pressed his lips to the crease between her thighs and her core, her body jumping at the tickling shock that touched her spine. With her hands holding back his hair, her fingers flexed between the strands.

She could feel his smile against her skin as he closed that remaining distance, pushing his lips against her clit. She hadn't realized how wet she'd grown until she pulsed around nothing, her breath stalling. His nose mushed against her mound, his lips puckered around her clit in a sucking kiss. It was enough to have her toes curling, eyes fluttering.

He lingered on her clit, peeking up at her through the fan of his lashes, for a moment before dipping lower. (Y/N)'s throat ran dry as she watched his tongue sink between her folds, a small whine falling from her lips. A light flickered through his eyes then when he peered up at her, though he didn't stop to tease her or pull away to let out a huff of laughter. Instead, he kept her gaze as he skated the tip of his tongue down the length of her slit, lingering over her shuddering opening.

Her reaction—a choked moan, flexing hands, and shiver down her spine—was finally enough to have him smiling against her wetness. He pulled away just enough, his breath fanning across her core.

"Feel good, angel?" he asked, punctuating his words with a kiss to her clit.

With her mouth dropping open, (Y/N) wanted to answer, knew she had the words to give him, but nothing left her lips. She was left with a frantic nod of her head, wiggling until she was precariously dangling from the edge of the counter with her pussy right in Harry's face. His brows bounced over his eyes, a smug smile touching at the corners of his lips.

Expecting another teasing quip, (Y/N) readied herself to attempt to actually answer him, but her mind was drawn completely blank when he only dove back into her folds. His nose was pressed against her swollen clit, her wetness sliding around his chin. She could feel the motions of his tongue through her slit, his lips kissing her in-between each lick. Eventually, Harry couldn't manage to keep his eyes open, his lids falling closed as he buried his tongue among her taste, the tip peeking against her opening.

It wasn't until he wagged his head, spreading her folds around him with his hands keeping her shaking thighs from closing around him, that (Y/N) found her voice.

"H—Daddy, I—" she choked out, the call crackling and stilted through her lungs.

The mentioning of his title only spurred him on it seemed. He attempted to mutter something against her core, something lingering and drawled, though (Y/N) couldn't even begin to decipher his words as they were pressed into her pussy. The vibrations of his voice was enough to rattle through her, his nose still mushed into her puffy clit.

She just needed that much more, she thought, her toes curling at his back. With her hands in his hair, she attempted to get that more she needed, pulling him closer to her core in hopes of feeling him inside.

Harry's grip on her thighs tightened then, his eyes peeling open to match her cloudy gaze. Despite her hand in his hair, he drew away with the pillows of his lips barely dragging across her sensitive skin.

"Close already?" he asked, breathless.

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry," she stuttered, swallowing around her dry throat, "I—"

Before she could finish her thought, Harry smeared one last kiss against her clit before he was parting her thighs and standing to the full of his height between her legs. She craned her neck to look up at him just as he fixed his palms to mold to the curve of her cheeks, bringing her in for a kiss. His lips were already swollen by the time he sealed them to hers, a taste lingering on his tongue. (Y/N) acted as his crash pad through the frantic shift, taking all of the affection he was pouring into her. She didn't have to see him to know there was a furrow dipping his brows, his eyes cinched closed as he kissed her with the same intensity he had shared between her legs. With the way he was flushed against her, keeping her upright on the countertop, it didn't take much to feel the bulge straining behind his pants.

Her breath caught. That wasn't something she'd never completely get used to—knowing he loved touching her enough to get his own satisfaction.

Harry only kissed her harder, this nose nudging against her own.

When his hands disappeared from her cheeks, sliding down the length of her body, she expected him to wrap underneath her thighs and hoist her up into his arms. Instead, he only lingered on the bare plush of her hips, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin.

"Baby," he breathed against her mouth, drawing just far enough away for the syllables to be audible. "I need to fuck you."

If her heart hadn't already been hammering into her ribcage, she's sure it would have started then, the vulgar words ringing in her ears.

Puckering her lips enough to close the space between the two of them, sharing a small kiss, she nodded her head. "Okay."

"Right here."

That had (Y/N) blinking her eyes open, pulling far enough away to peek at his still closed gaze. Instinctively, she wanted to protest, to tell him to take her to the bedroom where there was privacy and a locked door. But those were instincts that came before they had their own space, before they were void of roommates. There was no need to hide if Harry was the only one around to catch her in that pleasure.

When her pause lingered, Harry finally cracked his eyes open, the pupils dilated. She could see the darting of his gaze as he took in the details of her eyes, the fan of her lashes, the shape of her nose.

"Need me to stop?" he asked, his breathing coming out in heavy swatches.

"No, no," she answered in a rush, looping her arms around his neck, "Just... We don't have roommates."

A small smile curved his lips. "We don't."

"This is our house."

"It is."

"We can do this right here."

His grin grew. "We can do this right here."

(Y/N) couldn't help the beaming smile that took over her features. Taking advantage of her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss. It was messy, a bit off center with their mouths smeared across one another, though that was only because she couldn't completely erase her smile.

"Y'want to?" he murmured into her mouth, his hands on her hips sliding until he was palming the full of her thighs.

"Please," she answered, the word falling from her lips without a second thought. She could only imagine the dimple that bloomed into his cheek then.

Shifting between her thighs, he tipped his head to trail his lips onto her cheek. "Get me out, baby."

Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she processed his instruction, her hands sliding from where she had them around his neck. She had the privilege of tracing down his body, feeling the blocks of muscle on his abdomen and the soft pudge on his hips. Reaching the waist of his pants, her hands grew just a bit frantic, fumbling as she moved.

"'S alright, lovebug," he murmured to her, dotting his lips onto the height of her cheekbone, "Jus' me."

That was the problem, she wanted to tell him. She wanted him now, and she couldn't make it happen fast enough.

Unfastening the waist of his trousers, she pushed them down until they hit just the middle of his thighs. She brushed his skin, feeling the coarse hair on his thighs brushing her hands. Peeking between them, she could see the way his cock stood hard between his thighs, the black fabric of his briefs straining around him.

Hooking her fingers into the band of his underwear, she carefully pulled the garment down, tugging until they were in line with his trousers. His cock bobbed against his stomach, hitting the material of his shirt, with a glistening stain left in its wake.

Wrapping a leg around his hip, (Y/N) didn't even realize she was trying to pull him closer until she felt herself teeter on the edge of the counter. Harry caught her with a huff of laughter leaving his lips.

"Careful, love," he muttered, hooking an arm around her waist while the other stayed right on the full of her thigh.

"Sorry," she breathed, planting her hands on his chest though she couldn't keep her gaze off of his length, "I'm just..."

"Ready for me?" he said, posing a question as much as he was finishing her sentence.

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head with her fingers curling into the material of his shirt, "Please, daddy."

She swore she could see his cock jump at her words.

"Okay, baby," he told her, his voice stilted some, "Hold me, 'kay?"

Unfurling her fingers from his shirt, she curled her arms around his neck and hugged herself to his chest. His cock fit snug between them, the base pressed into her clit enough to draw a shaky breath from her lungs. Harry's own breath became strained, his chest stuttering.

He held her steady with his arm around her waist while his other slid from her thigh. She could feel the faint touches of his fingertips as he felt around, wrapping his fingers around his cock before lining up with her core. The first touch of his tip against her pulsing hole, her breath caught, her spine stiffening.

Giving her a moment to breathe, he ran the head through her fold. With every bump to her clit and lingering nudge against her opening, she was reminded just how close she'd been before when he had been on his knees between her thighs. She curled her leg around his own that much more, drawing him nearer.

"Good?" he crooned, the word coming out in a breath.

She didn't even think before, "Yes, daddy," was spilling from her lips.

That was all Harry needed to hear before the nudges turned into a full thrust of his hips, pressing his cock into her core. A whimpering moan built in her chest as he sheathed himself inside her, her walls parting for him with shuddering pulses. Harry had his own lingering moan that sounded in her ear, elongated and low as he finally got to feel her around him for the first time since moving in.

"Been too long," he panted, smearing his lips against the hinge of her jaw as she hugged him tighter.

"It-It's been a week," she told him, stuttering over her tongue as he reared his hips back. Feeling the ridge of his head glide against her and catching on her entrance was enough to catapult her heart to her throat.

"Too long," he affirmed, thrusting forward, his hand landing on her hip to keep her steady as she was pushed back at the force. "Too long for daddy not to have you, baby. Not gonna happen again, okay? Not since I've got you all t'myself now."

His words melted into her skin as he kissed down her jaw, his hips curating a pace that had her body pressing back into his anchoring arm. She swore she could feel his head reaching places she had forgotten existed until he was inside her. His base smushed into her clit every time he bottomed out, giving her a jolting touch before he disappeared again in favor of sinking through her walls. She was sure he could feel that jolt just as much with the way she tightened into a snug hold around his length.

"Not gonna happen again, daddy," she repeated, feeling a bit delirious as she threw her head back, just barely missing the edge of the cabinets as she presented more of her neck for him to kiss. "All to myself now."

She could feel the huff of his laughter fanning across her heated skin as his lips met the neckline of her dress. "You've got me all to yourself, baby."

Her thighs bunched around his hips, the muscles tightened when he removed his steadying hand on her thigh. She rocked against the counter with every thrust of his hips, the force knocking a small noise loose from her chest each time.

Curling his fingers around the corseted top of her dress, Harry pulled it down until her bare chest was put on display for the warm air between them to reach. Moving her hands up until she had her fingers dancing through the long curls of his hair, she combed her fingers through the strands as he kissed down her chest with his own hand landing on the thick of her thigh.

His lips planted a trail over her skin, outlining the swells of her breasts and the line of her cleavage before catching her nipple. The sucking kiss had the pit of her stomach twisting and tying into a tight spiral, knocking her lungs against her ribs in favor of making room for the warmth filling her abdomen. It wasn't a touch she was usually accustomed to, but every now and then, Harry toyed with her body just right to have the feel of his mouth on her chest rivaling that of his touch on her clit.

"Daddy," she squeaked, her fingers curled tight in his hair, "I think—I—"

"I know, love," he murmured against her chest, the tip of his nose skimming the flesh, "I can feel it. Y'cum whenever you're ready, yeah? Let daddy have it—I've missed it."

Even if it was a bit silly—something she may feel embarrassed over with a clearer mind—(Y/N) swore she could feel his voice against her heart, the rumble of his words sinking through her muscle and bone and straight to the pumping chambers.

"I missed you, too," she stuttered out, her tongue thick in her mouth, "Missed you fu—"

A pinch settled between her brows when she realized what she had been about to say.

"Missed me what, baby? What were y'gonna say?" Harry prodded, dragging his mouth up from her chest to land on the point of her chin in a searing kiss.

"Um—I don't know," she breathed, attempting to catch him in a kiss before he pulled just too far out of reach.

Between them, the sound of her folds parting for him with her slick making a mess of their legs sounded within the space, suddenly louder than any soft song that could be playing from her heart shaped speaker. Harry chanced a look down, catching the way his length glistened in the low remaining light with his mouth dropping into a small gape as his breath came out in pants. His arm around her back tightened, angling the small of her back just right to allow him deeper inside.

"Were y'gonna say y'missed me fucking you?" he asked, breathless as he couldn't tear his eyes from where they were joined.

Combing her fingers through his hair, she caught the long strands falling in his face. She swallowed around her dry throat. "May-Maybe," she peeped, stuttering through the word as he surged his hips forward in a particularly deep stroke.

A deep groan rumbled through his chest, his arm around her and his hand on her thigh tightening as he fell into her. His face was buried in her neck, his lips brushing the column of her throat.

"Will y'say it for me, angel? Please," he murmured, his voice pitching with the plea.

Had there been anything going on in her head, (Y/N) might have protested, just as she always playfully did when he poked about this same subject. But her head was too full and too empty at the same time. Her only feasible option was to give him what he wanted—especially when he was taking care of her the way he was.

"I-I missed you fucking me, daddy."

The heavy groan he let out dripped over her shoulder, warm and rumbling. His own curses filtered through after, his hips still knocking against her own with every stroke as he bottomed out inside her.

"Never gonna let it happen again, right, love?" he panted, sounding a bit delirious as he began to babble into her neck.

His bubbling words became the soundtrack as he felt his hand slip from her thigh to head between their bodies. He pressed his palm into her mound with his fingers stretching across the small of her tummy, leaving his thumb to dig right against the pad of her clit.

"Can y'say it again? Please?" he asked, bringing her back to the moment with decipherable words.

Her eyes fell closed, her too stimulated from everything to worry about the world beyond the cocoon of their bodies. Every muscle seemed to be bunched that much tighter, pressure leaking through until there would be nowhere else for it to go, but out.

"I-I'm so close," she whimpered, clinging to him as he mouthed at her throat, his cock twitching inside her, "Keep fucking me, H."

A moment later did (Y/N) feel the way he shuddered against her, his hips lingering once he bottomed out, only to roll against her. His mouth was in a gape at her neck though no noise came out, leaving him slack-jawed as the first paint of his cum roped out. Though he attempted to keep his thumb on her clit moving, he was far too heavy headed as he rolled his hips into hers, soaking in his own orgasm. Wetness flooded her walls, her insides shuddering as she felt each motion of his cock inside her, hyper aware of every ridge and minute rock of his hips.

"Fuck," he muttered, her first clue that he was floating back down to earth, "I love you—shit, 'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, why are you sorry?" she breathed, combing her fingers through his hair. She couldn't help but to wriggle in his hold, her own release teetering after feeling him cum inside her.

"I—You're supposed to be first," he said, breathing heavily into her neck once the last dredges of his pleasure seeped out of his system.

"I'm fine, it's fine," she smiled, pulling him from her neck only to press her lips to his, "It's okay, you d—"

Her words were choked off when he started circling her clit with new vigor, rearing his hips back just enough before stroking into her once more. Though he was slowly softening and she could tell the feel of her walls sucking around him was too much, he didn't do anything other than tuck his bottom lip between her two and work her back to the edge she had been balancing on.

It didn't take long for her muscles to bunch under her skin, her spine to stiffen, and stomach to mold into a tight ball. Her toes curled from where she had her legs wrapped around him, her fingers doing the same in his hair.

"'M here, baby," he murmured, smearing his lips against hers in a kiss, "Cum for me."

With a flutter of her lashes as her eyes fell closed and a bubbling call of his name falling from her tongue, (Y/N) felt every bunch of pressure in her body release. Her walls shuddered just as her lungs did, her breath stilted. A heat surged through her system that felt cold by the time it touched her fingertips and toes. Her clit pulsed under his thumb, her insides tightening around his softening cock and the mess he'd left inside her.

Harry worked her through it as best he could, letting her take her time in the clouds before every touch became too much for her. Though she kept her arms wound around his neck, she loosened her legs from around his waist, leaving him free to pull out with a slick sound filtering through the kitchen.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in pants as she closed her thighs around his hips, knocking his hand just off center enough to show him she'd had enough for the time being.

"Harry," she breathed, an aftershock reaching up her spine.

"(Y/N)," he answered just before giving her a small peck, a smile on his lips.

Hugging herself to him, jumping when her sensitive clit touched his soft cock, she tucked her head under his chin.

"We just had sex in our kitchen," she murmured into the dip of his collarbones.

A laugh fell from his lips, loud and boisterous. Arranging his arms around her to reciprocate her hold with his palms pressed into the planes of her back, he squeezed her that much tighter to his chest. "We did, didn't we?"

"Is that gross?" she peeped, suddenly hyper aware of the cold countertop under her legs. There wasn't much time left before she was sure there would be a bigger mess to clean up given just how slick her core felt.

He shrugged around her, giving her a kiss to the top of her head. "Did y'like it?"

She answered him in a shy nod as if she hadn't been begging him to fuck her just a handful of minutes before.

"Then, no, 's not gross."

Smiling into his throat, she melted into him. Even with the boning of her dress poking into her skin, the way her slick was beginning to cool on the inside of her thighs, she could see herself sticking to his moment for as long as she was allowed.

"I had so much fun with you tonight, baby," Harry muttered, his voice as soft as the touch of his lips to her hair, "Thank you."

"I had fun, too," she told him, peeling away just enough to look up at him with moony eyes, "Thank you for wanting to live with me."

Dimples appeared in his cheeks, his smile tender to match the way he looked at her. "Didn't have much of a choice, did I? 'S not normal to send half of m'heart to another house every night, is it?"

His corny, sticky-sweet words only served to make her heart bloat and reach for his own as if it could leap out of her chest if it tried hard enough. A bubbly laugh fell from her lips, (Y/N) hugging him that much tighter with her cheek laying against his chest.

"But, seriously," Harry amended, his voice void of amusement as he murmured against her hair, "Thank you for choosing me—I feel lucky everyday that I get to have a life with you like this."

Every bit of laughter in her chest waned out in favor of fluffy affection tickling the chambers of her heart. She nuzzled closer to him, basking in his warmth and the scent of his skin. She wondered how long it would be until she had those same notes imprinted on her, how long it would take for Harry to linger with notes of cherry on his clothing.

"I love you," she told him, sincerity dripping from each syllable.

"I love you more," he cemented, dropping a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Before she had a chance to playfully argue back, Harry shifted his hold on her, adjusting his hands until they slid underneath her bottom. He lifted her from the countertop, (Y/N) clinging to him with a gasp escaping her throat.

"What are you doing?" she rushed out, wrapping her limbs around him as tight as she could manage.

A bubble of laughter plumed from him. "We've got to clean up and then look at the damage we left here. Or did y'plan on sleeping in your princess dress?"

The thought of spending the night in the boned corset without panties or even socks on had a frown embedded on her lips. "No. Clean first."

"That's what I thought," he smiled, carrying her off with a kiss planted on her temple.

On their way to the bedroom, (Y/N) laid her cheek against his shoulder, the walls of their home passing them by. Her gaze lingered on the photos of them littering the walls, the memories she'd made with him over the short time she'd had her Harry in her life.

She wondered how many picture frames the walls could hold. They had a whole lifetime now to share many more special moments, and she didn't want to miss a moment.

—————

ahhhh! im so happy I finally got this part of their story out!! thank you so much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or anything at all :)

831 notes · View notes

atyourmerci · 9 months ago

Text

♡ Hook, line, and sinker (2) (sub!abby // follower req)

Basketball!abby X nerdy reader

Read pt.1 here

♡ ♡

Summary: Abby gets eager to get another study seshion in within days of seeing her last

Warnings: smut, MDNI, sub!abby, top!reader, abby is a whiny sub, orgasming from being untouched, lots of tongue???, my digital footprint is assfucked, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: sorry I left yall on a cliffhanger but pt.3(finale) will undoubtedly be my favorite, I’ve had it planned from the beginning so hehe. I’m so glad you guys are enjoying it as much as I am. Love you like always, enjoy muah!

♡ ♡

She couldn’t even fucking look at you. Not a single glance. It’s as if her every pathetic whimper and plea would broadcast to the general public if she so much as looked your way.

It was pathetic, and a little comical to say the least. The power you held over her was obvious, and she knew it. It made her sick, the way she gave up so easily, broke down every wall, gave into you. But for fuck’s sake was it riveting, she couldn’t stop thinking of the intensity…how powerful yet slow you made it. How you worked your way into completing dissecting her.

She had never let any sexual manner have the chance of passion, intimacy. Sex was a goal to her. The intricacies getting to that destination were trivial to her. You fucked it all up, she started dwelling on it, growing obsessed of every detail you slowed masterfully.

She needed more.

♡ ♡

After a week of unmet glances and radio static you came to the conclusion that you completely wrecked the ox of a woman. All it took was a few words and your tongue to rip her out of her upheld perception of herself.

You tried fucking with her the second time you had class with her. Once, sure, maybe she was busy or concentrated for once, but twice? She was purposefully hiding, like a scared bunny from a predator.

You bumped into her walking out of class. If you could even call it a bump- more like you threw your body at her knowing that she couldn’t ignore it. At the touch of you she almost seized up, staring down at the floor in front of her, continuing her path. You threw her a teasing, “oh…sorry!” To which she returned with awkward mumbling, something along the lines of, “ah- uh-,” and continued almost in a run away from you.

You laughed it off. A few words and your tongue…fucking comical.

If avoiding her reality is the way that worked for her, so be it. There was no need to try to process her internal emotions- she couldn’t even do it. So, you let it die, you knew the type of person she was. You knew her dirty little secret.

♡ ♡

Another mind numbing night of studying till your eyes popped out of their sockets was in store for you. Staring at white pages filled with words and highlighting’s, fuck they could be in another language for all you knew at this hour.

It was getting late and you were about ready to throw the towel in, making it tomorrow mornings issue. You hear a buzz from your phone, rubbing your eyes you wonder who has the audacity to try speaking with you at this hour. “Abby Anderson,” illuminates on your face. At first you think you may be dreaming, your eyes weren’t working well at this point anymore.

A.A: Can we meet up this week, need help w the test

Now you need me?

A.A: huh

Nothing. Test isn’t for another 3 weeks… why do you want to start now?

A.A: need to get ahead

Mmm okay. Tomorrow at the library?

A.A: too loud

Okay coffee shop

A.A: I don’t like coffee

I didn’t ask

A.A: I’ll be over at your place tomorrow- 8

Little late for studying

A.A: do you ever shut up

If you promise you’ll be nice

A.A: I didn’t say that

I’m sure you’ll be a good girl

A.A: let me come over

See you at 8 tomorrow.

Only Abby Anderson would attempt to booty call you through a ruse of studying. She usually came knocking down your door the night before the test begging you for your help. Three weeks before was, well… pathetic.

♡ ♡

When she showed up at your dorm door, 8pm on the nose, she was more nervous than you had ever seen her. She blessed you with one weary glance as you whipped the door open, but continued her gaze down afterwards.

When she sat on the bed, for the first time she sat completely straight up, uncomfortably straight, folding her legs across and twiddling her fingers between her legs. A nervous habit you’d picked up from her on your last endeavor.

She never usually paid attention to your lecturing but fuck was it like she wasn’t even in the room this time. Throwing out quick “yeah’s” and “yup’s” on a routine after you’d say a thought.

You knew exactly what she came here for…but god was it fun to watch her squirm. You could’ve thrown her…okay maybe not thrown…but at least pushed her down on your bed so she didn’t have to do any work, give her the easy way out. But that would not have been amusing.

You’re in the middle of explaining a chemistry equation and- “can you just- do it,” she blurts out, stopping you completely in your tracks. You watch her intently, waiting for an elaboration you won’t get. Her eyes trained on her lap, waiting for you to pick up her scattered pieces and place them together.

“Do what abby?” You say faking curiosity. “You know,” she says in return. “I don’t think I do,” you taunt her. “Please-“ she says meekly. You begin to crawl silently towards her, moving her hands up from her lap so you can straddle her and move her hands back to tops of your thighs.

The sudden sensation causes her breath to hitch, her eyes watching her unwarranted hand placement on your thighs. You lightly grip her jawline so that she meets your eyes, just watching as her mouth opens in a pant.

“You make me nervous,” she says, if she could, she’d break your eye contact, but you wouldn’t let that happen.

“New game.”

She looks back at you puzzled, almost frightened. You grip your hand around her chin tighter, “you’re going to lay down, just like the last time, and I’m going lick every inch of you, and you’re going to tell me right where it’s sensitive, you understand?”

You watch as she gulps down a nervous breath, shaking her head rapidly, eyes dazed. “Good girl, now go lay down.” Her hands move to your hips, grasping down on the flesh desperately, “I can’t handle when you call me that-“

“No touching- or I stop.” She pulls her hands down quickly, moving her way to the back of your bed. “Y- okay. I-I promise.”

She looked like I child waiting to open presents on Christmas, eyes bright and wide, waiting for your command. This time you didn’t have to ask, she immediately ripped her shirt and sweats off, leaving her only in her sports bra and boxers adorned with a patch of slick forming in the center. You climb closer to her, kneeling between her thighs.

Just to toy with her further you slowly begin unbuttoning your blouse, her mouth starting to gape. Once it had been completely removed you started working on your shorts, slowly shimmying them down your thighs with your eyes trained onto her. She bit onto her lip watching as you were left only in your own bra and panties.

You climb back onto her, bare skin on bare skin. You wanted to tear into her, but taking your time to cut deep would be so much more rewarding. “You understand the rules?” You as watching her teeth cut into her lip, “mhm,” she replies through her closed mouth.

You lean into her, catching her shoulder with your tongue as she jolts into you. You feel her arms come up beside you but fall quickly. You trace it up to her collarbone, letting your teeth graze the thin skin there, following to where they met in the middle. You trail it up the middle of her throat, feeling the vibration of her breath.

“C-close,” she breaths out. You redirect to the side of her neck, right on the pulse. You already knew it was sensitive there but…it was fun.

“Fuck there,” she breathes out. You take your time licking down the throb, nipping at it, teasing the threat, eliciting as many little whimpers you can get out of her. Once you’ve had your fun you move up, catching the lobe of her ear with your teeth, “holy fuck- yeah there,” she groans out.

You bring your mouth into her ear, whispering gently into it as your hand snakes against the opposite side of her neck, “what? No ones ever touched you here?”

She groans back at you, “n-no. Never.” You return back to the shell of her ear, nipping at the surrounding flesh.

You begin your decent, your clothed cunt reaching hers, “take this off for me pretty,” you say outlining her bra with your fingertips. She feverishly nods tossing it off of her. You lean into her chest, taking no time to meet your tongue to her rose pink bud. Her body jolts up at the sensation, her chest growing a deep shade of pink.

“There. Right there!” You begin circling it, saturating it with your spit, “I know baby,” you say glancing back into her eyes, lidded trying to keep them open so she can watch you, but it was getting so so hard.

Your teeth latch onto it, encasing the bud gently. Flushed red as the blood raced to them, teeth purpling dots into the soft flesh. The whimpers falling off her pathetic throat.

“You k-know you c-ant talk to me like that,” you watch as her hands grip into the sheets, knuckles whitening. “You can come baby, I won’t be mad.” Your fingers come up to twist her untouched nipple as you lap your tongue at the swollen one in your mouth.

The pool of your own arousal soaking into hers, even covered you can feel the pulsing of her, repeated by your own.

“I- I can’t.” She pants out as her hips buck up into your clothed core. “Yes you can, you’re being such a good girl, show me how good you feel.”

“Please- no n-not like this.” Her head drops into your pillow…she’s so fucking close. The red on her chest now trailing up her neck.

“Come for me pretty girl, just like that, rub that pretty pussy into me.” She begins shaking, trying to stop herself, but it was too late.

“Fffffffuckkkkkkkk,” she begins reeling, whimpering through her reluctant orgasm. Her hips grind into yours as her chest splattered with beads of sweat rapidly rises and falls. “Good girl, keep going.” She rides it out as long as she can, chasing her own pathetic untouched high.

Once she settles she glances up at you dazed, as if she wasn’t sure what had just happened. You stare back smugly, sure of your power.

“That was- embarrassing.” She ashamedly shakes her head, letting the tight grip of the sheets go. “Quite hot on the contrary,” you dismiss. “God if anyone ever-“ she begins to protest.

“Let me show you how it makes me feel,” you cut her off, dismantling yourself from her so that your legs frame around hers, wide open.

Your own pool of slick dripping out the sides of your thin panties. She gawks at the site, unable to remove her gaze from the sense of familiarity. The feeling of intensity so tight you cant stop yourself from the natural reaction.

“Can I-“ she begins to reach out to you but you cut her short, “no.” You dismiss her with no room for discussion.

This wasn’t about your secret. It was about hers.

Follower req by: @ghgygd

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby tlou #sub abby #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x you #abby a

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0bticeo · 8 months ago

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lurk | feyd-rautha

part one of five. (part 2.) (part 3.) (part 4.)

summary:

feyd-rautha.

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

it is kill or be killed, and you intend to live.

wc: 2k

tw: blood. death. non graphic description of gore (this is a gladiator fight). mentions of eugenics. fighting as foreplay. reader may or may not have a blood kink. knife kink??? reader is more refined than feyd but don't let it fool you she's a freak. uuuh hubris? probable inaccurate handling of dune lore, esp with the voice (forgive me for the creative liberty of assuming the mother of the kwisatz haderach should be a freak. as a treat.)

many, many years ago, the sisterhood deems you ready for the gom jabbar. you enter the room, your mother a looming shadow, hands folded in her sleeves, head bowed before a long figure cloaked in shadows.

it doesn’t sit right with you, this intrusion in your mother’s parlor. how dare that old witch make a servant out of your mother in her own house?

“kneel.”

you do. you fall to your knees. before you, a phalto green box. in it, pain. at your neck, the gom jabbar, its deadly poison whispering into your ear.

it tells you about sweet, sweet little death. it tells you the reverend mother will not put your life in danger. not when you’re the culmination of nineteen generations of careful planning.

you are to be married to a harkonnen and bear the kwisatz haderach.

so you raise your head and put your hand in the box, eyes boring into the old crone’s. you see something flash in her depthless eyes. you think of the calm before mother-storms, the stillness of the air before pounding rain.

it’s rage.

pain shoots through your hand. fire that burns and charrs and eats away at your flesh, consuming one layer of skin after another until you’re sure it reaches the bone below. you almost scream. instead, you bite your lip until metal-blood stains your tongue.

you will endure this pain. you will not let fear consume you — you have nothing to fear, you shall not die, not here. fear is the mind killer. pain is the mind killer. you will let it wash over you and face the eons of bene gesserit knowledge standing before you.

through gritted teeth, you ask:

“am i human enough, oh wise one?”

you were. otherwise you wouldn’t be here, years later, rotting in a harkonnen cell.

(there are things that have been kept a secret from you. you have been raised following your mother’s footsteps in the weirding way. the reverend mother denied you a place under her tutelage with harsh words and a harsher look. you’ve caught wind of her thoughts in shimmering fragments of dreams — what has jessica done?)

it will matter, in the end, that your mother decided to give your father a son. already, you’ve seen it, behind the web of your eyelids, the lone silhouette of your brother, blood of your blood, rising, rising.

he will gather them, the fremen, from the burning sands of arrakis, and rise, blade glinting under scorching sun. lisan al gaib, they already call him, hushed whispers lost in the shifting sands of dunes.

your hand falls to your womb, empty still.

they were scared, the bene gesserit. the atreides line was growing too powerful, too fast. you — the promised daughter, skilled in the way, with tongue and mind sharper than your blade — are to be bred and deliver the one.

but in came paul — beloved little mouse of a younger brother. too smart, too observant, too skilled, too much. your mother’s defiance, your mother’s love for your father led her to commit the unthinkable and defy the order.

it retaliated.

you’ve been betrayed. that, you’ve seen coming. so did your father. so did your mother. even your brother felt it, in his very bones, the low thrum of wrongness. something was bound to happen. something was bound to shake you to your very core.

something happened.

the harkonnens came. house atreides fell. you can still smell it, the stench of death, the bloodied sands beneath your feet as you struck and struck.

all must die, and so they did.

you feel it still, the blood coating your hands, your forearms, dripping from your blade, the old scar on your forearm burning righteous fury.

they caught you, in the end. you, who willingly put a target on your back, allowing your brother and mother’s quiet escape. you, beaten down, bloodied. grinning, voice warping the harkonnen rats’ perception.

“you will not see me as i am.”

the atreides have been set up. offering arrakis has been nothing but a convenient way for the emperor to get rid of your bloodline.

you scoff; in the quiet depths of your cell, your fingers dig crescent moons in your palms.

you’ve been taught to read behind veils upon veils of lies. the truthsayer suggested the eradication of your house. painted you a threat.

being able to breed the kwisatz haderach won’t protect you.

so here you are, eldest daughter of duke leto atreides and lady jessica, older sister to paul atreides. here you are, sitting with your back pressed up against the wall. cold seeps into your marrow, reaching bone. rage simmers low in your gut. you quell it. nurse it until it becomes a living beast eager to feast.

you will need it.

your body fails you. your sight is blurry, your hands tremble. they should not. duncan would have hit the back of your head had he been there. he isn’t. (dead.) breathe in. breathe out. focus what’s left of your attention on the too small bowl of food that’s been given to you, on the glass of water. empty, both of them.

poison isn’t a problem — not with your training, not with the constant shifting and turning of lethal molecules within you. there. prana bindu — precise alteration of the body’s vitals. you will bear your condition for a time, weakened, but alive.

you clench your fist and slam it against the wall. pain surges through you, burning through your joint. good. if fear is the mind killer, pain clears the fog clogging your brain.

here goes: you’re rotting in the cell of your hereditary enemy, malnourished and poisoned. you’ve heard the guards, their off handed comments when they thought you too drugged to understand. your cell is below an arena. you will need to fight. perhaps, they’ll pit you against your men. the atreides house, dying by its own hand. fitting.

you’re neck-deep in trouble.

the door slides open. two guards come in, all dressed in black. harkonnens. harkonnens everywhere, and you cannot do a damned thing as they pull you up, pushing you out of your cell. they’re laughing. those bastards are laughing.

one less atreides scum in the known universe — good riddance!

you will tear into them and rip out their spine with your teeth.

they drag you in a maze of hallways, each darker than the last. you’re ascending, a catabasis of twists and turns and sliding doors. there’s a low thrum in your gut. louder and louder with each step is a pulse. a chant. a name.

the guards press a blade in your hand and push you forward.

the door slides up. shadows part. you blink with a low hiss. light pours down on you, all-consuming, blinding. sands stretch before you, unnaturally white.

the arena.

thousands upon thousands of people gaze down at you. the voice surges forward, eons of your foremother speaking through you.

“you will not perceive me as i am.”

something trickles down your nose. blood. you’ve overdone it. the voice isn’t meant to be used against that many people, not for long.

you wipe it off.

it will have to hold for the time of this fight. the harkonnen won’t rest until the atreides are completely and utterly wiped out. deceit is your only chance at survival.

the thought makes your blood boil.

good thing the crowd is screaming for it. they're all screaming for it. a pulse. a chant. a name.

feyd-rautha.

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

the noise alone has him turning towards you, head tilting to the side. he’s assessing you, na-baron feyd-rautha harkonnen. he glances up. for a split second, you follow his gaze. above, looking down upon you, is baron vladimir harkonnen, gargantuan mass of flesh.

you want him to collapse. to watch as his bones break under the weight of monstrous grease. you make out the movement of his lips.

happy birthday, nephew.

he’s on you before you can react. your blade raises. steel meets steel. you clench your teeth. his strength surpasses yours. you won’t yield, not to him. but by god is the bastard strong. you’ve got your hands full with just parrying his blows, the force of them echoing in your very bones. your feet slide on the sand below. any more and you’ll lose your footing.

his blades meet yours, again and again, their serrated edge slicing the corrupt air of the arena. they slice through you, too. a vicious cut on your bare forearm has you reeling back, your blade and sheath raising to parry.

this is bad. there’s only so much you can deal with in your decrepit state. fighting to survive isn’t an option — you must kill or be killed.

you draw in a sharp breath.

watchful eyes bore down upon you. bene gesserit. the reverend mother herself has come to geidi prime.

something at your side — you let your guard down. there’s a flash, a metallic clang. feyd-rautha gazes down upon you, apex predator with your death written in the greedy sands of the arena. here, you’re precious prey.

rage grips you by the throat and has you baring your teeth.

there you are, blades intertwined with harkonnen scum, a breath away from his lips. they part in a slow, assessing grin. you feel more than you see his appraising gaze raking over you. you, unyielding, matching him blow for blow, blood drip drip dripping down. under the black sun of geidi prime, it, too, has turned a velvety black.

from above your crossed blades, you raise your head and meet his eyes — twin pools of dark, abysses made to consume you whole. time slows down. you want to drown in the marrow of him and feel the warmth of his flesh beneath yours, lost in rapturous agony. something settles in your gut, low and warm.

you call it fury.

you pivot out of the way and nick him, a thin cut splitting open the skin of his cheek. he laughs. slashes at you with deathly precision. you duck, squatting down, leg springing forth, slamming at the back of his knee. he falls. catches you by the ankle and drags you to him.

you snarl.

“let go.”

how utterly pathetic of you. his grip falters. you hear his blades fall to the ground. you twist, pivot until you’re straddling him, blade pressed against his throat.

there you have it. internal carotid, right below the sculpted edge of his jaw. five minutes until death. five minutes, with his lifeblood coating your hands, soaking your robes, sinking down to your skin beneath.

your hand cramps on the handle of your weapon, in a mockery of rigor mortis. nervous impulse. the tip of the blade pierces tender flesh, drawing a droplet of blood. you follow its path down the column of his flesh, until it reaches the edge of his collarbone.

his hands surges forward, seizing your forearm in a vice grip, yanking you towards him. you feel his breath on your lips with his next words.

“do it.”

his voice sends a shiver down your spine. low, gravelly, it calls for blood. if you don’t spill his, yours will be drawn. yet, you do not move, eyes riveted to his face, to the vicious impatience carved in his features. if you kill him, you’ll be hunted and put down like a dog.

he shifts under you, the nervous twitch of a beast untamed. even through the hard edges of his ritual armor, you can feel the raw power of him.

you feel his thumb trace the edge of an old scar, up, up your forearm, a flash of black teeth and then—

pain.

there’s something in your side, serrated, razor-sharp, twisting. your hand raises to your side. warmth trickles down your fingers. his hand wraps over yours, warm, blood a silky black against the porcelain of his skin.

he watches you, twisting the blade until yours fall to the ground, bloodied hand coming up to your cheek. you lean into it. welcome him, as his thumb smears blood across the edge of your parted lips.

“you fought well, atreides.”

he pulls out the blade.

you fall.

taglist: @kpopnstarwars @jaiuneamesolitaiire

#obticeo writes #dune #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha x you #@space boo you have inspired me i dedicate this to u #and the bald freak #gotta perpetuate the tradition

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lacroixqueen · 3 months ago

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i can fix him no really i can (18+, dubcon) ex bf deadpool x down bad reader

Summary: your ex boyfriend deadpool shows up at your apartment after many years and he's badly hurt so you need to help him but he also wants to fuck you because he's toxic :/

Pairing: ex bf deadpool x fem!reader with unresolved feelings

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Tags: dubcon, making out, flirting, wounded, angsty

It was Friday night, so naturally, it was pouring rain outside. You were already snuggled up in bed with a bowl of popcorn and your favorite movie locked and loaded ready to play. Until you realized exactly what this perfect evening was missing: ice cream. You quickly got up out of bed and moseyed your way into the kitchen.

Before you could swipe your favorite gelato from the top shelf, you heard a loud crash emanating from your living room window. You froze in your steps for a moment, and then grabbed the largest kitchen knife you could find in your vicinity.

Inching your way towards the noise, you were about to swing your weapon at the intruder before a nearby lamp flickered on and you laid eyes on a face you could recognize from a mile away.

“Holy fuck, put that shit down!” the assassin in all red and black exclaimed, taking the knife out of your hand with ease.

“Wade?!” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “What the hell are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in what, five years?”

“Great to see you again too, sweetheart,” he replied, noticeably clutching the lower part of his abdomen. “I just thought I’d swing by and say hi.”

“Wade, you are bleeding,” you pointed out, rushing to his side. “What the heck even happened to you?”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he muttered through gritted teeth, sliding his arm over your shoulder, which immediately caused your back to tense up. “But if you want the short version of the story, let’s just say I pissed off someone who had a giant sword for an arm. Like, he drove that shit through my fucking brain! It’s okay though, I’ll get him back for that one of these days, he’ll see.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed as you guided him to sit down on your couch. “Just.. don’t go anywhere. I’m gonna grab some stuff real quick.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it!” he chuckled playfully. “Also, did you do something new with your hair? I love it. It’s like your old color but just subtly different. Hey, did you like tone it? Was it that salon next door? Because their cut and color deal is to die for.”

“Stop doing that,” you shot back, ambling over to your first aid cabinet.

“Stop doing what?” he said with a feigned innocence.

“You know what,” you responded bluntly, pulling out a set of tweezers, gauze, and saline.

“What, flirt with you?” Deadpool asked, sitting up a little bit more enthusiastically now. “Honey, we’ve been broken up for a long time, do you seriously think I would pick this moment to hit on you? Because you would be sorely mistaken. I am happy to report that I am 100% completely over our relationship and have moved on to bigger better things in life like car sales and snorting cocaine with Blind Al. Oh, she said she misses you by the way.”

“Your timing has never been impeccable,” you commented, kneeling before him with your wound care supplies. Before he could protest, you parted his legs open and rested your forearms on his thighs. This was making him blush harder than he would ever care to admit to you. “Now can you lift your suit up for me, please.”

“We’ve barely caught up for five minutes, and you want me to strip for you already?” Wade chirped, placing a melodramatic hand on his chest. “I mean, I’m all for it but aren’t we moving a little bit fast here?”

“You’re doing it again..” you sighed while shaking your head. “Can you just please not make this more awkward than it already is?”

He grumbled a bit before finally lifting up his suit, revealing a sizable gash slightly to the side of his V-line. There were multiple shards of glass embedded into the wound, glistening menacingly in the dim lighting of your living room.

“Holy shit, Wade,” you breathed while laying out your instruments. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Look, maybe I pissed off an intergalactic space fascist or two,” he mumbled while shrugging his shoulders. “But who’s counting? Besides, the next time I get my hands on that freak I’m going to gut him from the inside out and make him eat it. Ooh, that would be satisfying, it’s making me so hard right now.”

“Always the pacifist,” you murmured sarcastically, taking your tweezers and dislodging one of the largest glass shards from his wound. “Have you ever considered, oh I don’t know, volunteering at the soup kitchen? Being a contributing member of your community? It doesn’t always have to be about bashing people’s faces in.”

“Jesus fucking shit on a stick motherfucker! Fuck!” he yelled as you removed the glass piece. “What kind of archaic method was that? At least numb me up first? Or I don’t know, buy me dinner?”

“Oh don’t be such a little bitch. If you wanted anesthetic, you could have just gone to the urgent care across the street,” you said matter-of-factly. “Besides, this isn’t exactly a professional clinic.”

Wade’s breathing became heavier when he noticed your soft tits pressing up against his leg as you focused harder on prying out a stubborn shard of glass. And how your lips curled into an adorable little pout when you were extra concentrated on something.

“You know, this would be the perfect opportunity to give me head right now,” he said with a smirk under his mask. “Like, you could not be in a better position.”

You tried to ignore his lewd statement, focusing on removing the smaller shards of glass in his wound. You gasped when you felt his leathered hands reach into your hair, gathering the locks between his fingers to form a ponytail.

“Wade!” you groaned, immediately setting down your tweezers. “I said stop, so quit it.” You shook his hands out of your hair, re-directing your attention back to his injury.

“Oh, but you always looked so hot doing it!” he reminisced, clasping his hands together like some dazed fangirl. “And you were amazing! Like, took the entire length, it’s like you didn’t even have a gag reflex! I’ve never seen anything like it. Oh, and you always swallowed without me even having to tell you. Do you know how rare of a find that is? Because I haven’t gotten head that good since the day we broke-”

“One more word out of your mouth and I’m literally not going to help you anymore,” you interrupted, staring him dead in the eye, which was quite effective at shutting him up.

You finally removed the last piece of glass, working a bit more efficiently now that he is not constantly interjecting with his fantasies about you.

“Aaand, all done!” you said, tucking the debris into a wad of gauze. You cleaned the wound with some saline and covered it with a large bandage. “Yay, that actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Well of course, I’m literally a self-healing mutant,” Wade replied, pulling his suit back down to cover his wound. “Someone has literally shot me in the head before, but here I am, still kicking!”

“But it’s not like you can just heal foreign bodies out of yourself,” you countered as you cleaned your bloodstained tweezers with some bleach and a cloth. “You would have been in pain for days if it weren’t for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” he sneered. “But thank you sweetheart, that actually did get me out of a pinch. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a big ugly bad guy to send back to his dimension, and time is money, so I really should get out there before he blows up another building downtown or God forbid beheads a baby or something.”

“Nope, you are going to stay right here,” you established as you closed the lid of your first aid kit. “Because I’m not gonna have you come back here multiple times again throughout the night and me not sleeping at all.”

“Wow, so now you’re just being a selfish bitch!” Wade said, crossing his arms over your chest. “Did you hear that, innocent bystanders? She could give less of a fuck if the world was set ablaze the next morning because I wasn’t there to stop it!”

“Oh, the world will be just fine,” you stated. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go to bed and you are going to sleep on the couch-”

As you got up, your stance wobbled a bit and you found yourself collapsing face forward onto Wade’s lap, your lips just barely brushing against his mask. You grasped onto his shoulders out of instinct, steadying yourself.

“Ohhh I see what you’re doing here!” the assassin called out. “You want me to stay so badly because you are just a horny little slut who can’t get enough of me! Well that’s no problem at all, because I am actually completely open and willing to do this, just know that my hard lines are scat, vomit, and furry. I don’t know why I can’t get into those animal costume things by the way, just something about the eyes..”

“I don’t want to sleep with you tonight, Wade Wilson,” you said, enunciating every single word. “I just.. lost balance.”

“Uh huh, ‘lost balance’,” he repeated, making air quotes with his fingers, his gaze not wavering. “Well if that’s the case, why don’t you kiss me and not do anything else? Since you’re so certain.”

“I’m not kissing you either,” you snapped, gasping a bit as you felt his hands slide over the curve of your waist, tugging gently at the fabric of your cami.

“You’re just saying that because you know if you did you wouldn’t be able to resist doing more,” he accused, voice darkening all of a sudden. He lifted up his mask to reveal just his lips. “So kiss me, Y/N. Since you’re sooo not attracted to me like that anymore.”

You sighed a bit as you felt the tips of his lips brush against yours, his hot breath entering your mouth, almost inviting you to lean in closer. You also realized you were never one to back down from a challenge. You went ahead and wrapped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips into his. You tilted your head slightly to the side, allowing a couple strands of hair to fall down your face.

So you kissed him, your soft pouty lips blending seamlessly with his bruised, callused mouth. He was hungry, voracious for you even, wanting you so desperately as he pushed his tongue into you. And you allowed him to. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer towards his body as you kissed him back. Your tongue twirled against his, a little whine escaping from your lips as he broke the kiss momentarily to catch his breath.

He grasped one of your bloodstained fingers, and sucked his own blood off of them, licking his lips mischievously after.

“W-wait, Wade, stop..” you gasped, leaning back a bit once you felt his hand sneak over your taut stomach and grasp your neck firmly. “I-I can’t do this.”

“Aw, but we were getting so into it babydoll,” Wade whined, his grip tightening a bit around your neck before finally releasing you. “What happened? Are you getting cold feet because you remembered I’m so good at it?”

“No, it’s just I can’t catch feelings for you again,” you admitted, unclasping your hands from over his shoulders. “I don’t like it when I get like this with you.”

You stood up from the couch and turned your back to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Ugggghhhh you always get so dramatic like this,” he said, standing up to follow right behind you. “I promise you it’s not that serious. Think of it like this: just two people fooling around and then calling it a night. We don’t have to get into all that messy bullshit from the past if you don’t want to. We could just.. What’s the word my therapist says all the time.. Oh! Compartmentalize. Yeahhh that’s it. You know, you get really good at shit like that when you watch multiple people you care about die in front of you, it’s pretty great.”

“But it’s not that simple Wade, I can’t just..” you sighed as he wrapped his arms over your torso, pressing his chest tightly against your back. He slightly lifted up the bottom of your cami, playing with the top of your panties that peaked out of your shorts. “Please.. don’t do this to me.”

“What, this?” he asked before sliding his tongue over your exposed neck, still playing with the top of your lacy panties and twisting the little bows around his fingertips. “Love these by the way, are they new?”

“St-stop..” you stammered, breath quickening as he rolled up your tank top to eventually reveal your delicate bralette, which accentuated your cleavage perfectly. You felt his hot breath splash against your shoulder as he panted at the sight of your body gradually revealing itself to him.

“Wow, you look even better than I remember!” he commented, playing with the little ribbon in the center of your bra. He used the palm of his gloved hand to rub aching, undulating circles over your toned stomach. “Have you been working out? And by the way, love the statement piece, it goes really well with what you have under too! Ugh, I love when you wear a matching set for me, which reminds me, remember that gorgeous lingerie you had on that one Valentine’s day? I still can’t get it out of my head! Oooh, do you still have it? Because if so I would love to uh, borrow it for a few days if you don’t mind?”

You broke away from him, stepping towards your bedroom door, back still faced to him. “I have to go to sleep now,” you said, trying to conceal how flushed your cheeks were getting in the dim lighting. “You can use the sofa but please be gone by morning.”

You twisted the handle to enter your bedroom and slammed the door behind you. You pressed your back against the cold wood, trying to regulate your breathing by counting numbers and steadying yourself by grasping your dresser while the room spun.

“Welp, at least I tried,” you overheard Wade mutter nonchalantly. He stepped over to your living room window, unclasped the locks, and disappeared out into the night. Like it was just another pit stop in the evening for him.

Eventually, you found yourself back in bed, staring at the ceiling as your heart continued to pound against your chest. You tossed and turned the entire time, wide awake, until eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and had to find some relief.

So you regrettably, masturbated to the thought of him, legs shaking underneath your sheets while you clasped your hand over your mouth. This was something you did way more often than you care to admit. And only then was sleep able to reward you.

#deadpool #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #wade wilson #deadpool x reader #deadpool x you #deadpool x y/n #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x you #wade wilson x y/n #marvel jesus #marvel #mcu #marvel movies #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #marvel comics #the avengers #avengers endgame

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